You Were Me, Too
by labyrinthofsuffering11
Summary: AU's in different time period, situations, whatever. All Nine/Rose. Some fluffy, some angst.
1. Chapter 1

AN: *flinches* Sorry, I know I'm bad! I have like three other stories that I should be working on right now, but I couldn't get this out of my head.

Hallelujah- Leonard Cohen

_"I've heard there was a sacred chord_  
_That David played_  
_And it pleased the Lord, _  
_But you don't really care for music, do ya?"_

Balls were devastatingly dreary to John Smith. There was too much hoity toity politics, too stuffy of clothes, too many people to question his every move. He hated being at them, he hated getting a single invitation in the mail. But, because of his father's status, he had to attend every single one of them. Never mind the fact that he was old enough to have his own children by now, it was still expected of him to do his father's will. He wasn't like his brother.

Know only as "the Master" in public, his younger brother was charismatic and charming to every single person he met. He could have an entire room of strangers eating out of the palm of his hands in seconds. He was so acclaimed, in fact, that it was rumored that when King Tyler stepped down from the throne, his brother would take his place. All he had to do was marry the king's daughter, whatever her name was.

"Excuse me," came a voice from beside John. He turned slowly to see who the disturbance was.

"Yes?" he asked, before the words became lodged in his throat. It was a woman, no more than twenty, golden blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in loose ringlets. She was looking kindly at him.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked him, and for some reason, he couldn't say no. He let himself be pulled onto the floor. He let her put her hand in his, and he put his hand around her waist.

_"It goes like this,_  
_The fourth, the fifth,_  
_The minor fall and the major lift,_  
_The baffled king composing Hallelujah."_

He could not tell how much time passed when he was staring into her eyes.

"You will find your feet at the end of your legs," the woman teased, tongue sticking out between her teeth. He had never seen anyone do that before in his life, and it instantly made John like her more.

He slowly started leading her around the floor in circles, captivated by her gaze, and wondering why she chose to dance with him.

He saw his brother walking towards them, and with a sense of dread, he thought he knew her name without asking it.

"What's your name?" he asked her, afraid the answer would be what he feared.

"Rose, Rose Tyler." She beamed up at him, and his eyes widened. He couldn't let his brother steal this exquisite woman away from him, he couldn't.

"Right, Rose. Nice to meet you," he said sincerely. He stopped and grabbed hold of her hand. "Now, run for your life!"

They took off running, with Rose giggling in his ear, and he couldn't help sporting the daftest grin.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

"Would you mind telling me why we're running?" Rose asked breathlessly, her skirt in her hand.

"Because," John said, "I am saving you from my brother."

"What could be so bad about him?" she asked.

"He's too charming for his own good," he informed her. "People tell him if he marries you, he's guaranteed the crown."

Rose snorted. "Why would I let him do that, when I already like his brother?"

John turned red. "You do?"

"Why else would I ask you to dance with me?" she asked like it was obvious.

"Lack of other partners?" John shrugged.

She laughed at him. "There are plenty of other people, but they are all too stuffy, or they are only after me to get the crown."

"Don't worry," John assured. "I don't even want it."

She smiled. "Well, good, then. I would like to see you again sometime. Other than the exhausting atmosphere of a dance."

_"Your faith was strong, but you needed proof._  
_You saw her bathing on the roof._  
_Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you."_

John was fairly certain he was falling in love with Rose. Every time he spent time with her, she did something else that made him lose his reasons why they should not be together. He thought she might love him, too, but he needed something as a sign.

So, when she invited him to the palace gardens, he was surprised to see her in a tub. He covered his eyes, as the gentlemanly thing to do. (Lord knows what else he was thinking)

"I'm sorry, Rose," he apologized. "I did not realize you were indecent. Why are you bathing in the gardens anyway?"

"Well," she started, "I am a princess, and that means I can take my baths where I please, which happens to be in the gardens at night. I like to look at the stars," Rose finished wistfully.

"But why did you call me here?" he asked.

"No one disturbs me when I'm bathing," she said, "and I wanted to talk to you about something, uninterrupted."

"What is it?" he gulped.

"Can you uncover your eyes, please?" Rose asked gently. "You can't see anything, promise."

John hesitantly removed his hand to see she was right. What he wasn't expecting was how much more beautiful the moonlight made her. "What was it?" he choked out, caught off-guard by her appearance.

"Your brother charmed his way into my father's mind at the ball," she said. "He's having dinner with us tomorrow night, and I'm scared over what might happen. From how you talk about him, we might be married by tomorrow."

John frowned. "I hope not."

"Tell me how you feel about me right now," she said. "Say it, in case I never get to hear it again."

"You're scaring me," John said, turning away from her.

"I'm just preparing for the worst," Rose said truthfully.

John turned towards her once more. "I love you," he said quietly. He rushed over to her side and took her hands in his. "I will fight for you, if I have to, Rose Tyler."

She leaned in to kiss him lightly. "I love you, too," she affirmed.

_"She tied you to her kitchen chair,_  
_She broke your throne,_  
_She cut your hair,_  
_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah."_

The next time John saw her was at a dinner party to celebrate her engagement to his brother. He could not eat a single thing, and when he was questioned by his father for his rudeness, he blamed it on a stomachache. His brother seemed to know. He sent him looks that could only be described as gloating, happy at the fact that he got to tote Rose Tyler around in public.

Every flirting bat of eyelashes, every arm graze, was like a knife in his back. It was like he was tied to his seat and couldn't move. It was like his brother wanted John to admit that he was better for Rose than him.

"My lady," his brother spoke up, and to John's pleasure, she grimaced.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you alright? You haven't eaten much tonight." He sent a glare in John's direction.

"I'm fine," she assured, placing a hand quickly over his. "I just feel sick is all. I am going to the restroom."

John counted to sixty before he announced he was going outside for some fresh air.

"Something must be going around," his father assured the table.

He found her slumped over on a balcony railing outside.

"I warned you," he said quietly.

Rose turned to face him and flung her arms around his neck. "John, I don't want to marry him. I don't even love him!"

He stroked her hair comfortingly. "We'll think of something," he assured.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

Their meetings grew less and less frequent, and more and more of a secret. The wedding plans were in full swing, and John spent his every waking moment feeling like he was drowning when he wasn't around Rose. He poured over every book he could think of to find a solution.

_"Baby, I have been here before._  
_I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor. _  
_I used to live alone before I knew you."_

Rose asked him to meet her in the ballroom where they first met. If anyone asked, he was helping her plan something for his brother for their wedding.

"I have to go through with it," she said to him sadly. "I talked to my father yesterday, and he said your brother was my best option. Besides, who else would I rather marry? He wouldn't even let me discuss you. My mother said you were old enough to be my dad." Rose bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "They're wrong. They do not know about our love."

John walked over to her gently, and lifted her chin until she looked at him. "They are right," he admitted. "Maybe...we shouldn't see each other anymore. It's just getting...hard."

"You can't!" Rose insisted. "I used to feel so alone before we met. I felt like I never belonged here, like I never was meant for anything. But you made me come into my own, you made me better."

John smiled at her. "You did the same for me."

"Dance with me?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I have to go."

_"I've seen your flag on the marble arch,_  
_Love is not a victory march. _  
_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."_

John woke up to a_ thud!_ against his window. He rubbed his eyes groggily and stood up to see what it was. He opened his window to see a piece of paper attached to his windowsill. He looked down to see Rose running across his lawn, too far for him to call out to her.

He glanced down at the paper to see it was a letter.

_John,_  
_I cannot marry your brother. Do not ask me to. You of all people should know I would be miserable for all of my days. So, this is my plan. We will run away together. Please say you will._

_I await your response no later than tomorrow night._

_Love, _  
_Rose_

John crumpled the paper in his fist and screwed his eyes shut tight. Could he do this? Could he condemn Rose to a life of nothing once they ran away together. Romeo and Juliet tried that, and look how well that turned out.

But what, he asked himself, was the alternative? Watch his brother marry Rose? Watch them have children and their own balls? Watch them laugh and dance together for the rest of his days? No, that would not do, no matter what he tried to tell Rose. He was a selfish man, he did not share. Rose was his.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

He climbed out of his window, intent on catching up with her and telling her his response right then.

"Rose!" he called into the night as he ran. "Rose Tyler!"

"What are you doing?" asked a cold, familiar voice John knew all too well. It made him stop dead in his tracks.

His brother stepped out of the trees surrounding their house and glared at him. "Why were you running after Rose at 3 in the morning? And why was she here?"

"I don't know," he lied. "I heard a noise outside and I saw her run across the lawn."

"Liar," his brother accused pushing him against a tree trunk.

John audibly swallowed and clenched his fist.

"You think she loves you? You think you're better for her than me?" he asked.

John started to speak, but his brother cut him off.

"She is mine. Besides, we don't want her to be disgraced when everyone calls her your daughter, do we?" he asked, laughing.

John dropped his head. "I wasn't going after because I loved her, I just thought she was here for you."

His brother dropped his hold on John. "Make sure it stays that way," he threatened and stalked off into the house.

_"There was a time when you let me know_  
_What's really going on below,_  
_But now you never show that to me, do you?"_

"John," Rose hissed. "What's wrong with you? You barely look at me, you won't speak to me, and you never replied to my letter."

"I just can't, Rose," John said truthfully. "It's not safe."

"Your brother threatened you, didn't he?" she asked.

He tensed. "No."

She huffed at him. "That is what happened. Why can't you just tell me!"

He walked away from her before she saw him crumple.

_"And remember when I moved in you,_  
_The holy dove was moving too?_  
_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah."_

Rose took off after him. "John!" she called.

"What?" he hissed. "Go back to your fiancee. He'll wonder where you are."

"To hell with him," she said defiantly. That got no response. "You're telling me you're just giving up? You're going to let me become his? All of me?"

John growled. "I have to, even if I don't want to."

"So, claim me," Rose shrugged.

He shook his head.

"Don't tell me you don't want to. Don't lie to me! I know, because I do, too."

John snapped. He grabbed her by the wrist, eliciting a gasp from her. He led her down the hall until he found a broom closet. Somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed.

"I do," he said simply.

Then they came together, and it was the greatest joy he had ever known.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

"We have to figure out a way to get you out of here," John said. "Without my family or yours knowing."

"Before my wedding night," Rose said. "I'm staying in a cottage, by myself, in order to reflect on my new life. Your brother won't be there, and neither will my family."

"Won't you have guards or servants?" John asked.

"They'll have gone to sleep," she said, "and as for the guards, you just come around the back. They're too thick to encompass the perimeter."

_"Maybe there's a God above, _  
_But all I've ever learned from love,_  
_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you."_

With the plan set in motion, John actually found it quite easy to get into her room at the cottage, even with his suitcase.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Of course," Rose beamed.

"Where are we going to go?" he asked.

"Anywhere and everywhere," she said.

"Fantastic!" he exclaimed, taking her hand in his. John lifted her out the window, only to hear her cry out.

"Rose!" he shouted. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, Rose," a voice came from outside. "Are you hurt?"

John's blood ran cold as he recognized it. He climbed out after her, seeing there was nothing else to do. He definitely couldn't let her get hurt because of him.

"Well, this is odd," his brother said carefully. "I seem to remember an assurance that Rose was mine. So, what's this? Why are you sneaking away together before our wedding night?"

"Because," John breathed. "She's mine. We love each other."

His brother laughed maniacally and cocked a gun at his head. "That's funny, all I ever learned about love was how to shoot someone who beat you."

"No!" Rose protested.

"Or maybe her?" his brother questioned, pulling her in by her neck, and pointing the gun at her.

"Don't!" John protested. "Me instead."

_"It's not a cry you hear at night,_  
_It's not somebody who's seen the light. _  
_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."_

"You see what love gets you, John?" his brother asked. "You could have been great if you would have just embraced your other name."

"I don't need an alias to save others lives," John said. "I can just be me."

"Isn't that sweet, Doctor?" his brother asked and then grimaced. "No, I suppose you're right. Doctor doesn't command power, but me on the other hand, I am the Master! Now let's see if you can save the woman you love!" His brother turned the gun at Rose once more and was about to pull the trigger.

John jumped in front of him and wrestled his brother to the ground. "I told you if you were hurting anyone tonight, it would be me," he said coldly.

"Gladly," his brother gritted out, pointing the gun at John. He pulled the trigger, and a rippling pain ripped through his stomach.

He fell back and his brother fled.

"John!" Rose cried out.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

"Rose," he smiled stroking her cheek.

"We've got to get you a doctor," she said, standing up quickly and trying to make a run for the guards.

"No." John grabbed her ankle. "There's no time."

"Of course there's time," she said, sitting down next to him. "We have all the time in the world."

"If that's true," John said, "then would you marry me?"

"Sure," Rose said easily. "In Barcelona?"

"No, now," he clarified.

"You're scaring me," she said.

"Just say you will," John whispered.

She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks.

_"You say I took the name in vain,_  
_I don't even know the name. _  
_But if I did, well, really what's it to you?"_

"We don't even have to say the vows," Rose assured him. "I do."

"I do as well," he said.

"You may now kiss your bride," she said hoarsely, leaning down to press their lips together.

_"There's a blaze of light in every word,_  
_It doesn't matter which you heard_  
_The holy or the broken Hallelujah."_

"Before I go," John said when they broke apart.

"Don't say that!" Rose exclaimed.

"Before I go," he started again, "I just wanted to see that you were fantastic, absolutely fantastic. And do you know what?" he asked.

Rose shook her head.

"So was I," he beamed at her, and gasped his final breath, letting the darkness take him over.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

Rose broke down into sobs, clutching his body close to hers. She stroked his closely cropped hair in between her fingers, and wished for him to come back.

"Please don't leave me," she pleaded. "I can't love anyone else."

_"I did my best, it wasn't much. _  
_I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch. _  
_I've told the truth, I haven't come to fool you."_

Rose leaned down to kiss his lips again. He didn't kiss her back. It made her angry and she screamed. "Why? Why? Why?"

Suddenly a gentle hand was on her shoulder. "Are you okay, Rose?"

She turned around to see a member of the guard looking at her, concerned. He was as skinny as a stick with brown sticky uppy helmet hair.

"No," she sniffed.

It was then that the guard saw the body. "What happened to him?" he cried out. "We've got to get a doctor straight away, we-"

Rose cut him off. "There's no need. He's already dead. Shot by his own brother."

The guard patted her shoulder. "I am so sorry, princess."

_"And even though it all went wrong, _  
_I'll stand before the Lord of song_  
_With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah."_

"Thank you," she said. "I loved him, I love him, and I will love him."

The guard looked at her strangely. "Are you sure you're okay."

"I'm always okay," she said bitterly. "Now, bring me that raft from the shore, and help me get him on it."

He did as she said, and they lifted John on the raft together. They pushed it to the water's edge.

_"Hallelujah, Hallelujah._  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah."_

Rose kissed his lips for the last time. "I promise I will never forget you," she whispered in his ear. "I love you."

They pushed the raft into the water, and Rose stood there watching it float into the lake. She stood there until morning, long after the raft had disappeared from sight.

AN: Ugh, I'm sorry. I can't seem to write anything but angst D: I promise the next one will be fluffy!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This is just a general note to all my fanfictions currently in progress. I'm sorry if you were excited about this being a new chapter xD And I'm also sorry, because I know you're technically not supposed to post an entire chapter with just an author's note, but in this case, it was needed. I just wanted to let you guys know, I haven't died, or abandoned this fanfiction right in the middle of the chapters. I have just had final exams, work, and other obligations tying me down. But now, school is over for three months, and I'll have four days off next week from work. So, during that time, all my fanfictions will be updated if they are still in progress. Thank you for your understanding, and thank all the lovely people who have followed, favorited, and reviewed. It's you that keeps me writing :)


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This is going to be one of the only AU's in this set that's not based off of a song, just because I thought about it, and thought it was good. This is technically Ten, but implied Nine/Rose.

_Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?_

Not the Doctor. In fact, he wants to encounter her. She used to be someone he knew. But that was before. Now, the beast has taken over, upset and progressed by grief. Grief from someone he left her with. Maybe she was coming after him for it. He should have run more tests. For what did he know of love? He was a Time Lord. Marriages were arranged for politics. But with Rose, it had been different- and he let her go. For being the most brilliant being in creation, he could sure be daft.

He should have known that even though his other self took the vortex out of her, that kind of thing leaves permanent effects. This one, disastrous. His Rose was hurt and it was all his fault, just because he allowed himself to forget once he regenerated. Why? His previous self would have done it at once, as soon as he was able. He left her twice now, and he was paying the price for his stupid actions. Maybe he should have called himself the stupid ape.

He loved her once upon a time, in his previous self. Still did, if he had to be honest with himself. But he had to lock those emotions away. What use are emotions if you cannot save the woman you love?

So, he did. He kissed her, and he drew the vortex into himself. He had not done enough. His emotions were useless. All they made him do was make the wrong decisions. But, he could change, for her. He would become more like his previous self, the one he was so sure she had fallen in love with, even though he thought himself too old to be seen with her. He had to save her, and properly this time. He would show that Dalek...he would save the woman he loved. Rose Tyler was going to be his forever, and he was going to show her that he was never going anywhere again.

"Have you seen her?" he asks. "Too beautiful to look at, glowing golden light?" But they all shook their heads.

"Rose, why won't you come back to me?" he cried. But he knew the answer. Because she wasn't Rose. She was the Bad Wolf. And then one day, he found her. Bringing destruction to a lab.

She collapsed into his arms. She felt as light as a feather; he had expected heavy with the weight of all those timelines pressing down on her head. He carried her back to the TARDIS and into the med bay. He laid her on a cot and hooked an iv and heart monitor into her stiff body.

"Nothing's going to harm you, Rose," he whispered into her ear. "Not ever again."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: This AU is inspired by both Blackbird and by the line in Father's Day when the Ninth Doctor says "Street corner, two in the mornin', catchin' a taxi home. I've never had a life like that."

Blackbird- The Beatles

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night, _

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly."_

**Street corner, 2am, catching a taxi home.**

John Smith had once been an interesting man full of life, but the war had forever changed that.

A shadow of his former self, he spent all his time sleeping and drinking. What did he care if he died? He had already lost everything.

It was a Friday night, at 2am, the corner of Henley and Adams, that his life changed forever once more.

There was a girl there, her eyes had racoon rings from her mascara, her hair messed about from pulling it.

"This is just great!" she exclaimed into the night, and John wondered if she might be mentally disturbed.

The girl threw her purse on the ground and plopped on the sidewalk next to it.

_Don't get involved, _he told himself, careful not to look at her.

A taxi rounded the corner and John flagged it down. He climbed in, but he sighed when he looked out the window to see the girl looking utterly lost.

"Wait," he said to the driver. He opened the window. "Are ya gettin' in?"

The girl shrugged. "No money. I'm a walkin' disaster, and lost it at the bar I was at."

John sighed. "Get in."

"But-"

"Stop bein' stubborn, and get your arse in the cab, before I change my mind," he interrupted.

The girl quickly grabbed her purse and hurried inside. She told the cab driver an address and they drove in silence.

"'M Rose," she spoke up finally.

"John," he said tersely.

She placed a hand on his arm and he tensed.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Was twenty blocks from my house."

He shrugged. "Same thing anyone else woulda done."

"They wouldn't," she said, certain.

The cab driver stopped and she fidgeted with her purse strap. "I, uh, get paid next Friday. I could buy ya a drink, ya know, to make up for the ride."

"You don't have to-"

"I know," Rose held her hand up. "But I'm goin' to."

"Fine," John agreed. "On the condition that it's not a date."

Rose blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing, to which he squirmed uncomfortably.

"If I was askin' ya on a date, you'd know it." She climbed out and waved as the cab pulled away.

"_All your life_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise." _

**Street corner, 8pm, too drunk to care. **

John Smith was so drunk, he didn't even know what day it was. It had been his worst day in a while. He couldn't take his mind of the blood: the red, sticky mass everywhere. Fire, burning, no one. Alone.

"I was goin' to buy ya a drink, but I don't think ya need one."

John slowly turned around to see the girl he shared a cab with, Rose. Her mouth was curled in disdain as she took his appearance in. Well, this was surely it. Now that she caught a glimpse of the real him, she would turn and run faster than anything, he was sure of it.

But to his surprise, the girl in question sat in the stool next to him.

"I do think we should cut ya off though," Rose mused.

"What are ya talkin' 'bout? I'm fine," John slurred.

"Would ya mind tellin' me why you're so drunk already?" she asked, and instead of disgust in her voice, John could swear he could hear concern. Why did this innocent girl care so much about a nobody?

"Drink all the time," he waved her off. "Helps me forget."

"Forget what?" she asked.

His face instantly sobered. "Everything."

…..

The next thing he knew, John was laying somewhere. It was rough on his skin, and his mouth was insanely dry. He looked up to see he was on Rose's lap.

John knew the proper thing would be to sit up straight, and never go near her again. All those carefully constructed emotional barriers were for a reason, but...he couldn't move. Something was holding him there, and he had a feeling it was the thing he was dreading the most.

"Rose, where are we?" he asked, mostly to distract himself from going down _that _road.

"I'm takin' ya to my place."

His mind instantly rebelled, red warning signs flaring up everywhere on his body. What had he done? What did she think was happening? What had he said while so drunk out of his mind?

"But-"

"Can't leave ya by yourself," Rose said firmly. "For one, you've had enough alcohol to drown an elephant, and ya passed out, screaming."

An ice cold dread spread through his body. "Screamin' what?"

Rose shook her head. "Doesn't matter."

It occurred to John Smith that no one had ever cared about him this much, not even his own family.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_

_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see."_

John woke up screaming. It was so dark, he couldn't see. He was blind. He tore at his eyelids, willing them to open and gain sight.

"John!" a shout came in front of him. A weight was on his legs and he thrashed.

"John, you're okay!" a voice yelled, wrestling his arms and...hugging him?

A hand stroked his hair, the voice humming lightly, and John calmed down, his vision slowly returning.

Rose. Rose was here. He pushed her back from him.

"Ya could have gotten hurt," he said sharply.

"But I didn't," she said, cautiously holding out her arms.

He sank into her body. "I guess I owe ya an explanation. I was in a war. I lost everythin'. Before I was discharged, there was a bombing. I got thrown to the ground, and I was blinded. For three days I laid in the same spot, wonderin' when someone was gonna kill me. Then, my vision returned. The area I was layin' in had turned into a fiery wasteland, it was a wonder I survived. I made it to a hospital, and they treated me as best they could, but my eyes were damaged by the shrapnel. I can't see as well as I did, and I have scars around my eyes."

Rose squinted. "You can barely see them."

John smiled. "Thank you, for everythin'."

"I'm here for ya," she said. "Can't deny we're friends now."

He tried to ignore that his heart twinged when she said that. Of course he couldn't expect her to want someone like him. "Can ya stay?" he asked quietly. "Ya know, in case-"

"Forever," she assured him, crawling into the other side of the bed.

"_All your life,_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise."_

**Street corner, 4am, waiting for sleep to come.**

"What's your favorite book?" Rose asked him when they couldn't sleep.

He thought. "I don't know. I haven't read in a long time," he admitted.

"What about Harry Potter?" she asked. "Have you ever read any of the Harry Potter books?"

"Harry who?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Rose audibly gasped. "We're goin' to fix that right now. Sit your arse on the couch, and don't move it until I get to chapter 10, at least. And don't you dare fall asleep."

"No worries," John grumbled. "I don't like to sleep."

Rose's face darkened, then she quickly composed a smile. "Stay, I'll be right back."

She bounced back into the room carrying a book that was sort of thick. _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _the cover read, with an illustration of a boy flying on a broomstick with a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Is this a happy story?" he asked.

"Well," Rose frowned, "it's not all happy. There are some scary parts. It is about wizards after all."

"How did he get the scar?" John questioned.

"A dark wizard named Lord Voldemort."

John shrugged. "Alright, you've got me sufficiently interested. Read on." He sat gingerly on the dark blue couch, and got himself comfortable.

"Alright," Rose began, "Chapter one, The Boy Who Lived…"

"_Blackbird, fly. Blackbird, fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night."_

**Street corner, 11am, getting a bite to eat.**

"Ya know," she told him the next morning as they were walking to get breakfast, "ya can talk to me about anythin', yeah? Even the bad stuff."

He nodded before he could form the words. Somehow John already knew he could, because Rose was just that type of person. What he couldn't tell her was he couldn't tell her because it would make her think differently of him. It would ruin any form of relationship they had.

He was content to just be, right now, in this moment, with her. Street corner, 11am, getting a bite to eat.

The diner was nice, the food was good, the company was better. He couldn't help but laugh when Rose made dumb jokes about their waitress secretly being a Death Eater, and then she giggled, covering her mouth.

"Whoops, spoilers for book 7," she said.

He pretended to be mad at her. "Now I don't even wanna finish," he teased.

"You take that back," she breathed.

"Hmmph," John said. "Only if ya eat that tomato."

Rose looked at him exasperatedly. "I hate tomatoes."

"Tough," John said, crossing his arms over his chest, and dropping his fork full of pancakes. "Not one more word of Harry until ya eat that whole slice of tomato, Rose Tyler."

She scrunched her nose and closed her eyes tightly (he couldn't help but think she looked slightly cute when she did that).

"Fine," she finally said, stabbing it with her fork viciously. "But, if I eat it, ya have to watch the movies, too. As a marathon." Rose waved the tomato slice threateningly in John's face.

"Deal," he said. "Just eat that tomato, and I'm yours for the next two weeks to subject whatever Harry Potter themed craziness ya want."

Rose put on a determined face, shoved the entire slice in her mouth and chewed. Her mouth pulled into a grimace, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel.

"Ready to give up?" John asked, a daft grin on his face.

She shook her head silently, finally gagging down the remains, and quickly washing it down with as much tea as she could manage. After that, she flagged down the waitress for more. "Like three cups worth," she informed her. "This guy," she jerked her thumb in John's direction, "made me down a tomato slice for Harry Potter."

The waitress looked at them strangely, but walked back to the kitchen.

"Told ya," she said to John, "she's a Death Eater."

"_Blackbird, fly. Blackbird fly_

_Into the light of the dark black night." _

**Street corner, 10pm, watching Harry Potter on the couch. **

It occurred to John then, that he had never done anything this incredibly domestic. Not even when he had been married, or had children. Although, that, had been all politics and arranged marriages.

Rose had fallen asleep against his chest sometime around when Harry had gotten caught by Professor McGonagall flying his broomstick. He was now down in the dungeons, trying to get past a set of moving chess, but that wasn't what had John captivated.

He looked down at the sleeping woman on his chest and marveled at the way her hair fell across her face, the glow of the tv light illuminating her features.

He could never, ever tell her how he felt, because he was pretty sure that he had already fallen in love with Rose Tyler, and she would never want him.

"_Blackbird singing in the dead of night,_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly." _

**Street corner, 11pm, trying to avoid her. **

"You're avoidin' me!" Rose accused behind him, but still John pretended like he hadn't heard her. He pushed through the crowd outside the bar, trying to get lost.

"I said-" she started once more, and to his dismay she sounded closer, "you're avoidin' me," she said, grabbing his shoulder.

He sighed and spun around to face her. "Yeah, so?"

She blinked in surprise, like she hadn't been expecting his answer. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I can't love ya!" he spit at her, spinning on his heel and marching off into the night. _Take that, Rose Tyler, ya wanted an answer, and ya got one. _

But of course, she wouldn't let it go. "Why can't ya?" she asked from behind him again, tugging on his collar this time.

He had to make it hurt, he couldn't let her get close, he had to…

"I love ya," she said so quietly that John thought he had imagined it at first. "I do," she said firmer this time. "So, why can't _you_?"

"I just can't, Rose," he said weakly, turning to walk again and she jerked him by his sleeve again.

"That's fine," Rose told him. "I love enough for the both of us," she said, pulling him by the collar again this time, and crashing her lips to his.

"_All your life,_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise."_

**Street corner, 10:05pm, she's kissing you.**

Rose was _kissing _him. He didn't know how to react and

Rose's

Lips

Were

On

His.

"_You were only waiting for this moment to arise,_

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise."_

**Street corner, 10:06pm, you kiss her back.**

John pulled Rose into him, reaching his arms around her neck before pulling back.

"It doesn't have to be enough," he tells her. "I love ya, too." And he kisses her once more.

He's terrified to death, sure. He knows the bad dreams will still come, but she can help him fight them. He knows he'll still want alcohol, but she can stop him. He knows he'll want to push her away, but she'll be there to tell him what a daft idiot he is for trying.


	5. Chapter 5

"_The city burned, fire lighting up the night sky._"

AN: Firstly, I want to apologize that it's been so long for this update. I've had a severe case of the writer's block. Secondly, I want to apologize that this is not fluffy at all, one bit, so sorry, in advance. Lastly, I want to apologize that bits of this are probably not historically accurate, and I'm probably going to get perfectionists tearing me apart for this. *winces in anticipation* This is a WW2 AU, with the Doctor as a soldier, Rose as a nurse. The song is Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears, originally, but these are the Lorde lyrics.

"_Welcome to your life,_

_There's no turning back._"

"You're absolutely certain about this, sweetheart?" Rose's mother Jackie asked her while she handed her the duffel.

"Yeah, mum. I'll be...well." She left it at that, knowing she could never promise her safety. The truth was more young soldiers were dying every day on the war front, but she wasn't much safer here either. The fight was coming closer and closer to civilian lines, and Rose knew that if the war didn't end soon, her mother was more in danger than even she was.

"At least here," her mother spoke up, like she was reading her thoughts, "We have a nice bomb shelter with food and water for ya. What have ya got there? Dodgin' bombs and bullets for men ya don't know, just so ya can maybe save 'em. I've done it before Rose, and it's not safe, and it's not smart."

"Mum," Rose held up a hand tiredly. "At least there, I have a chance to make a difference. All I can do sittin' here is wait. Gotta keep ya safe." She ended with a quick hug and kiss on the cheek to her mother.

It was a short train ride to Bristol. It wasn't what she remembered when she was young, however. Back then, her father had been alive, and he was taking Rose and her mother to a picnic, an excited Rose had pressed her nose against the glass of the window, taking in every new sight. The train had been filled with racous laughter, jokes, and general chaos. Now, however, you could have heard a pin drop.

The only people aboard the train were women going to the warfront to be nurses, like herself, and soldiers, called into battle. No one seemed to be in the mood for conversation, not that Rose could blame them. She barely felt like conversing herself. She used the time to steel her nerves for the job to come.

Because once she stepped foot off the train in Bristol, there was no turning back. Like it or not, this was her life now.

"_Even while we sleep_

_We will find you._"

Rose's first call to action was while she was taking a quick kip in the afternoon after the train ride. She had just gotten her things settled into her cot, and dozed off, only to be woken by the blaring sound of the alarm going off.

"What's happened?" she asked the other women rushing about.

"Another bomb about five miles from here," a woman named Lynda told her. "There's men, wounded. We've got to get these ambulances down there. Grab as many supplies as you can and move out, Rose."

She instantly put her determined face on, features smoothed into a calm mask, and grabbed the gauze and bandages, as well as the antiseptics on the table near them. She took her haul to the nearest ambulance and climbed into the back, readying herself to run as soon as they stopped and pick up the nearest wounded soldier.

They stopped with a thick clunk of the engine, and Rose launched herself from the back door, eyes scouring the ground for soliders. It was there she saw him.

The man was laying on his back, either dead or unconscious, she couldn't tell from over here, and his eyes were closed, one hand thrown over his eyes like he had been protecting them from shrapnel or the like. His hair was shorn, like a typical military grade haircut, and he seemed to be much older than most soldiers she had seen. His legs were twisted at the wrong angle to Rose, and she rushed over to his side.

She immediately knelt beside him, pressing her fingers along his pulse point to see if he was to be patient, or buried later when the fighting had stopped. To her relief, a faint pulse beat under her fingers, and she set to work immediately.

Rose carefully bent his legs straight out under him to check for any broken bones. She was right in assuming he had been bent at the right angle. Looking at them now, straight on, she could see a bone in his thigh protruding.

She wrapped the bone as tightly as she could, and gently lifted him up and supported his weight against her shoulder.

"Come on, then. We're gonna get ya into the ambulance."

"_Acting on your best behavior_

_Turn your back on mother nature_

_Everybody wants to rule the world._"

In total, they had rescued over 100 men combined. It had been one of the more successful operations. But no one had caught her eye like the first solider she spotted laying on the field. He still hadn't opened his eyes, but now Rose could see the very shallowest breaths expanding his chest every few moments. She laid him carefully on a cot, soaking a rag in the water jug beside it, and gently wiped his forehead of any dirt or blood.

It was then he awoke. His hand grabbed hers, stilling her movements.

His eyes were a piercing shade of blue, and they were wide and intent on her. "Where am I?" he asked her.

Rose noted he was from around here, the accent prominent in his voice. "You're at the hospital, sir. I found ya on the field."

The man blinked at her. "I'm...alive?" he asked.

"'Fraid so," Rose joked. "And you've got a nasty break on that right leg of yours."

He groaned. "Don't suppose I'm goin' anywhere then?"

"No," she confirmed. "Why would ya want to anyway?"

"I have to keep movin'," he told her. "Always runnin', never restin', me. Seen too many deaths to be proud, been the cause of half."

"You did it for queen and country," Rose assured him gently.

"You don't understand," he said quietly. "What it does to ya. And what for?" he asked. "Why a world war?"

"Because everybody wants to rule the world," Rose said.

"_It's my own design, _

_It's my own remorse._"

John, as Rose had come to ask his name, had healed quickly. He was back on his feet in no time, and he was ready to discharge and become active again.

"You gonna miss me?" Rose asked.

"Course," he answered like that was the silliest question she had ever asked him.

"Promise ya won't forget me?"

"Could never forget you, Rose Tyler," he said sincerely. "You were by my side, every day, helpin' me heal."

Her cheeks tinged pink. "I suppose. What have they got ya doin' when ya get out?"

John's face turned sober, and he turned away from her. "A bombing."

"You're bombin' somewhere?" she asked him.

"Yeah. London," he replied roughly, fiddling with the strings of his pants.

"You're doin' what?" she asked hoarsely.

John faced her again, eyeing her closely. "Are ya from there?"

She nodded, once. "My mum's still there."

"Oh. Well, there's the shelters, right?" He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Suppose," Rose said quietly.

"_Help me to decide,_

_Help me make the most._"

"I don't wanna do it," he admitted to her softly. "Believe me. But I have orders, and I haveta carry 'em out."

She nodded shortly, and swallowed thickly. "I guess the shelters will have to do."

He moved like he was going to place a hand on her arm, but stopped short. "Rose, I really am sorry."

She sighed. "I know, John."

"But…" John started, voice trailing off in thought, "if I...Oh! Yes! Rose, I got it! You're fantastic, ya are!" His eyes lit up in delight, and he ran off with a kiss to her forehead, leaving a blushing Rose in his wake.

"_Of freedom and of pleasure,_

_Nothing ever lasts forever._

_Everybody wants to rule the world."_

Lynda called them all around the radio that night.

"Listen to this!" she told them, turning the dial the highest it could go.

"_We are now being told a man is running towards the German camp, with what we can only assume is a bomb strapped to his back. Passerby at first thought he was a Japanese kamikaze, but now it is known he fights for England, because the man yelled 'For queen and country!' sporting a devilish grin. The Germans have started firing!" _

Rose bit her lip, ice running through her veins. A bad feeling told her this was John, this alternate idea he got in his head being put into action. It would be just like him to go down this big.

"_This is simply amazing, folks. The man is dodging all these bullets like he knows when they are going to strike. He's made it to the front lines now, and it looks like he's reached around to the strap on his pack. It looks like he's going to blow himself up in the proceess! What kind of idea was this? Is England supporting this?_"

_No, _Rose thought stiffly. _No, they were not, and neither was she. _Something didn't make sense to her, however. Why would he go directly into the German camp before they invaded London? Surely it was because he had been given orders, and not because of her?

"_The bomb has detonated, it is not known if the man made it out alive, or dead. The Germans in this camp have all been killed. Whoever that man was, England owes their lives to him, because he kept them at bay for another day._"

Her lips quirked into a smile, hiding it behind her hand.

"Wonder who it was?" Lynda asked out loud.

The women all shrugged their shoulders, trying to come up with theories about who it could possibly be, and Rose just left the tent, going to sit against the tree outside.

She stared up at the stars, shaking her head at the man that had left such an impact on her heart in such a few short days. The same man that could, and probably was because of his idiocy, dead right now. But, because of him, her mother was safe. She was eternally grateful to John.

"_There's a room where the light won't find you,_

_Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down."_

Rose was awoken to piercing screams to her right. She quickly jumped to her feet and made it outside.

"What the hell is goin' on?" she yelled, only to get her answer at the scene outside.

One of the women in her camp, Martha, it was, was pulling along a cot with a body on it, a sheet draped over the form. Ice pounded through her veins.

Something told her this wasn't just a random body of a dead man found in the battle field, it was one of their own.

Astrid, the source of the scream, clawed at the sheet covering the body, making it fall in rivulets to the ground and revealing Lynda, bloodied and eyes staring at nothing.

Rose gulped and turned away from the sight, her insides twisting, thinking of sweet, sweet Lynda who was far too young to die here.

Although she didn't want to ask, she knew she had to.

"What happened?" she asked so quietly, she was certain no one would hear her.

"Lynda and Astrid went out to a bombing site a few miles from here, we thought it was over, but there was a man, hiding out in the trenches, and…." Martha paused, her hand covering her mouth. "It was so awful, Rose," she finished quietly.

Rose placed a hand on her arm. "There was nothin' we could do."

Martha opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by an awful bang, and Rose was thrown backwards so hard, she thought her head might crack upon impact.

She rubbed her head and sat up slowly. "Martha? Are ya-" She was jerked violently to the side by someone she couldn't see clearly. Rose was only aware of the roughness of a hand, fingers encircling her own, and another loud bang behind them.

"Rose!" a familiar voice called from her side, "Ya got to keep runnin' with me!"

Instead of questioning why John was alive, and here, of all places, she followed him. He pulled her into the forest, over the gnarled branches that she would have tripped over on her own, through the shallow streams, and finally, they came to a stop at a rather large and mossy rock.

"John, how are you alive?" she asked him as soon as her breath came back to her.

"Takes more than a few Germans an' a bomb to kill me," he winked at her.

Without thinking, Rose threw herself at him, nails digging into his uniform. "I'm so glad you're alive."

"And I should say the same for you," he said. "Lucky I was there, or you'd be dead like-" John cut off the rest of his sentence, head drooped towards the ground.

"There's no chance for anyone else back there?" she asked hopefully. "Not Martha? Astrid? They were right next to me!"

"I'm sorry, Rose," John said heavily. "There's not a chance in hell."

"Ya could have saved 'em!" she accused, hitting his chest with her fists. "Could've grabbed their hands and ran-"

"Rose," he said gently. "No. It was a miracle I made it to you."

"We have to try," she said brokenly. "Please."

John sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Ya make me a daft fool, woman, d'you know that?"

She grinned at him, tongue poking through her teeth. "That so?"

"Yeah," he admitted, leaning closer to her.

"Good," Rose whispered, closing the distance between them and kissing him fiercely. She grabbed his hand, and determinedly faced the forest's edge.

"_When they do, I'll be right behind you._

_So glad we've almost made it,_

_So sad we had to fade it."_

He knew that woman shouldn't have talked him into going back, he knew it. Yet….John had fallen for her hopelessly, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. Whatever resolve he had against her crumpled whenever she kissed him. He willingly let her lead them back into danger.

All it took was a tumble, a stray root sticking up from the ground, a hastily placed foot, and a badly timed explosive.

"I'm right behind ya," she had promised him, letting him believe her and get too far ahead of himself.

His heart twisted itself in knots when he heard a cry cut off by a loud bang, a thunk hitting the floor. John couldn't think, he was seeing red. He pointed his weapon at where he thought the sound came from and fired, running to Rose's side, praying the bullet hadn't hit anywhere critical. Because wouldn't that be his luck? His curse of never getting anyone to stay with him?

Her lips were frozen in the cry she had been interrupted from, a streak of red plastered her yellow hair to the side of her head.

"Rose," John breathed, silently cursing himself for letting go of her, letting go of her hand. This was all his fault, it was-

"John," she whispered, eyes fluttering open.

"Stay with me," he begged with her. "Please, Rose, I've never wanted anything more in my life than for you to live."

She smiled at him, and his heart rose in his chest, hopeful that this was a sign she would be fine.

But in the next moment, she was gone. Her pulse had stopped.

John screamed in frustration, throwing her over his shoulders, determined that he would do right for her, and then he would do right for her mother.

"_Everybody wants to rule the world, _

_Everybody wants to rule the world, _

_Everybody wants to rule the world."_


	6. Chapter 6

AN: This is not based off a song like the rest of them are, but this is a different situation AU. What if Rose saw the old version of the Doctor while she was dimension hopping? And keep in mind, we're rated T here, so no sexy times :p Enjoy!

There was that revolting feeling again, like she was being sucked bit by bit through a cheese grater, and suddenly it stopped. Rose took a shaky breath and looked around her. Where had the dimension cannon taken her now? She looked around for some sort of clue.

No. She shook her head firmly at the familiarity of the situation she found herself in, and she grabbed her com from her pack. "Mickey," she muttered, "You are so gonna get it for this."

The dimension cannon had landed Rose on Satellite Five, right after she, Adam, and the Ninth Doctor had arrived. She hissed to herself, and quickly darted behind some crates, looking around for any sign of herself, but before she could get a good look around, Rose was sharply pulled by the elbow by someone.

"Oi!" she exclaimed. "D'you mind?" She turned to face the annoyance, only to come face-to-face with the one person, or alien, she was trying to avoid.

"Did the date really go that bad?" he mused, looking at her with his eyebrows raised.

Rose inhaled a sharp breath, nostalgia overwhelming her, and before she could stop herself, she tugged him hard into her, breathing in the scent of his leather she missed so much.

"Did Adam do somethin' to ya?" the Doctor asked suspiciously, pulling back to check for any bruising, eyes narrowed.

"No," she assured, and she saw him relax immediately. "Just missed you, s'all."

This time, the Doctor's eyes widened in shock, as he seemed to really take her in. He pushed her back from his chest lightly and scowled. "You're older, and ya have on different clothes. Explain."

Rose sighed. "You and me, we get separated in the future. That's all I can tell ya."

"How did you even get here?" he asked suddenly, worry filling his eyes, and she smiled at the sight.

"This," she said, pulling the cannon out of her pack.

His eyes widened. "Rose, that's dangerous," he chastised.

"I know," she said, holding up her hand to interrupt him. "But it's the only chance I have at gettin' back to ya."

His eyes looked shiny with unshed tears. "Ya can't rip apart the universe for me, Rose."

"I'm not just doin' it for me," she said gently. "The stars are goin' out in all the universes. I'm tryin' to find ya, so you can do somethin' about it."

The Doctor studied her carefully. "I would have never let anythin' bad happen to ya. Was it an accident?"

She swallowed hard. "Yes." She couldn't tell him about Madame Du Pompadour. She couldn't.

"Would ya like to get some chips?" he asked, grinning at her.

"I can't," she said sadly. "I already caused damage to my timeline and yours, and what about other me?"

The Doctor shook his head, bringing a hand to her cheek. "Just one meal isn't goin' to hurt ya, besides, I can block my memories of this. And, with a time machine," he paused to give her his widest grin, "I can come back to this exact moment, or did ya forget?"

She gave him her tongue in teeth grin. "Fine, but you can pay."

He laughed, and her heart ached at the beautiful sound of it. "Come on, Rose Tyler, let me escort ya home."

She smiled at that.

…

"_Oh_," Rose breathed when they set foot in the console room. She ran her hands along the various levers and buttons. "I missed this."

He smiled at her. "How long has it been, for you?"

She frowned, thinking about the days and years spent working on the cannon, and trying to find the right universe. "Five years," she said finally, sounding even a bit uncertain at that. It might have been more, it might have been less.

He growled. "What did I _do, _anyways, to get you mixed up in a parallel universe?"

"It wasn't really anyone's fault," she said gently, placing her arm on his.

"But how?" he asked, "It's impossible now that…" and he trailed off, although Rose knew where the rest of the sentence was supposed to go.

"Nearly impossible," Rose amended. "But someone made it possible, and I tried to help you defeat some of your enemies, 'cause I'm stubborn and wouldn't leave ya, and I got pulled into the void almost, but someone saved me."

A wave of relief crashed over the Doctor for whoever had saved his Rose from the pits of nothingness, her only life to be swallowed by white noise and terrible coldness, and so, so alone.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"S'okay," she said easily. "Now, what about them chips? I'm starved."

The Doctor grinned, and pulled the levers to dematerialize. She could recognize some of them now from asking him questions, and from reading up about what Torchwood collected about him.

Just a few moments later, his movements stilled and he said, "Let's go!"

Rose shook her head, grinning to herself at what the new version of the Doctor would say. "Allons-y," she said quietly.

He took her hand, and she entwined their fingers easily. It wasn't as perfect as the fit of her fingers and his regeneration's, but that was because she now suspected the Doctor made it that way on purpose.

The Doctor had landed at the same chip shop they had their first sort of date together, and she smiled.

"Someone else feelin' nostalgic?" she asked him, sticking her tongue in between her teeth.

"No," he said gruffly. "I just always wanted to take ya back someday. Seemed like a good one," he shrugged.

When they finally had their baskets of chips, sitting across from each other, the Doctor looked at her.

"So, I regenerated, didn't I?" he asked her quietly.

Rose swallowed her chip hard. "What?"

"It's obvious." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You seemed really happy to see me, if a little frightened, which at first, I chalked it up to bein' five years, but you've been lookin' at me like ya thought I was lost, and proper lost, too."

She nodded. "Yeah, you regenerated."

He grimaced. "What was it like? You know, for you?"

Rose sighed. "A bit weird, at first. I thought you had left me all alone, and the new you was different. He was everythin' you hated. Pretty and flirty and…" she trailed off her eyes filling with tears, and the Doctor clasped her hand under his and squeezed it. "Anyways, he was still you down there, but it was different. And I hated it at the beginning, especially-nah, never mind." She shook her head, she wasn't going to go there. Her Doctor being fresh off the Time War and all would probably go into his own timeline just to make her feel better.

"Especially, what?" he prompted softly. "You can tell me, Rose."

She shook her head, fighting back tears at the painful memory. "It doesn't matter, I think you got over bein' a dolt," she smiled weakly, "or maybe I'm just daft, 'cause I fell in love with you, again. And you couldn't have loved me back, but I'm still tryin' to find you anyway." She started crying in earnest now, feeling like a right idiot, until she was suddenly pulled into the Doctor's embrace.

"What did I do?" he asked her angrily, stroking her hair. "And don't you ever say that, Rose Tyler."

"Say what?" she asked.

"That you're daft. You're fantastic. The most fantastic human in all creation, you are. And I know any version of me would think so."

Her heart constricted painfully when he didn't say anything about loving her. "Oh."

"And also," he said, lifting her chin up to look at him. "If I don't love you back, I'm the daft one."

She surprised herself by pulling him in by his jacket lapels, and crashing her lips onto his. He seemed shocked at first, and perhaps a bit tense, but as the kiss continued, he relaxed against her and kissed her just as intensely.

"D'you mean it?" she asked hopefully, vulnerably, and out of breath slightly.

"'Course I do," he said, looking like it was obvious.

"Well, maybe you could tell your other self that," she muttered darkly.

"Are ya gonna tell me what he did to you?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter now."

"It does to me," the Doctor said sincerely, taking her hands in his. "Please, Rose, I need to know. I told you, I'll block out the memory of today."

She sighed, and said, "Fine. There was a woman named Madame Du Pompadour-"

"Oh, she's fantastic, that one is," he said appreciatively and Rose groaned.

"Not you too."

"Not as fantastic as you," he assured her, placing a kiss to her forehead.

"Anyways," she continued. "You were flouncin' about with her, left me stranded with Mickey, kissed her, invited her onto the TARDIS."

He growled at that. "Wow, I am a dolt."

She laughed at that. And then, a beep from her com pulled her back into reality. "Sorry," she apologized, pulling away, and grabbing the com from her pack. "Yeah?"

"Uh, Rose, ya only got about twenty more minutes, did ya find him?" Mickey asked.

"Well, sort of," she said.

"Sort of?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I found the old him," she told him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rose," Mickey said sincerely.

"It's okay," she said honestly. "I'll be back in twenty."

"'kay."

The Doctor was looking at her curiously. "Mickey's over there, too?"

"Yeah," she said. "He was there before me."

"Are you and him…?" he asked, looking at her hopefully.

"Nah," she shook her head. "Nothin' there. You and Mickey will get along more in your other body."

"As if," he muttered.

"I think it's 'cause you're prettier than him," Rose stuck her tongue out.

He spluttered. "I-"

"I gotta go, Doctor, ya mind givin' me a lift back to Satellite Five?"

He grinned. "'course not, Miss Tyler. And then, it's off to erase my memories." He offered his arm to her and she took it gladly.

"Off we go!" she exclaimed brightly.

"Into time-" he began.

"And space!" she finished grandly.

They grinned at each other and stepped into the TARDIS.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: This AU is inspired by Demons by Imagine Dragons. I love this song a lot, so it just made sense to use it, plus it sounds very Nine-ish to me. The AU is being trapped in a special prison with Rose Tyler. He's still the Doctor, but he's never met Rose. That timeline never happened, and instead, when he became the Time Lord Victorious (this time as Nine), world authorities trapped him inside. Rose Tyler is the Bad Wolf.

"_When the days are cold,_

_And the cards all fold,_

_And the saints we see_

_Are all made of gold." _

They say he used to be a great warrior, once. He could turn armies around at the mention of his name, he could inspire fear with a look. He didn't fight anymore. He didn't think anything was worth saving. There was nothing left for him to save.

Part of that was his fault. After the destruction of his race, the Time Lord had spiraled into his darkest point yet, and there was no one to stop him. He had found no other companion to accompany him on his destruction. There was no one to save, no one to look after. He thought it better that way. Maybe not at first, when the lonliness was crippling his mind and his soul. After feeling the Time Lords as an ever present echo in his mind, to suddenly go deaf was not an easy thing to bear.

But when he saw civilizations crumble and rise higher than ever because of him, because no one was there to limit him, he decided it was better than one. The Time Lord Victorious. His reign over time and space had lasted for quite some time, so long that he wasn't sure how long it had been before U.N.I.T. had finally stepped in and incarcerated him.

Now here he was, the true living hell for a Time Lord. Living the slow path, and forced to face what he had done.

…

A scream resounded from the cell next to him, and the Time Lord was confused. He thought that U.N.I.T. had placed him in maximum security, with no one to keep him company.

As if they were reading his mind, the director spoke. "The prisoner is being brought down here because she doesn't talk. There's no hope for her getting out."

"What'd she do?" the Time Lord asked in spite of himself. The curiousity of what this person must have done to be put here with _him _was overwhelming.

"Classified information," the director barked.

"Oh, 'course." He cursed at himself for being so stupid. He was being held captive here now. There was no way they would divulge secret information.

"But," the director said, "there is something that you should know if she's going to be in here."

"What's that?" he asked.

"She glows golden."

"She does what?" the Time Lord asked, confused.

He was met with no reply, only an example of what they had said. From the bars of his cell, he could see a strange golden light flowing from the cell next door.

"No," he whispered in horror. "It can't be."

The director gave them both a stern look before he left the room again, locking the door behind him.

"I don't suppose you'd talk to me?" the Time Lord asked the prisoner hopefully. No reply.

"I guess not," he sighed. "Although, I don't blame you. But, I want to know why you look like the Time Vortex."

"She was right."

"I'm sorry?" he asked. "Who was right?"

"No one. Doesn't matter."

"It does matter. That Time Vortex only comes from two sources."

The prisoner didn't answer him that time. Still. There had to be a connection if she was bursting with the Time Vortex. And why the hell hadn't she died?

"_When your dreams all fail,_

_And the ones we hail,_

_Are the worst of all,_

_And the blood's run stale."_

The Time Lord did used to have dreams, once. He dreamed he would reach the furthest edges of the galaxies, saving civilizations past and present, leaving his name on every tongue. If he did that now, he would be leaving a bad taste. He stopped dreaming about his family long ago. The only one that showed him any interest was his granddaughter. He dreamed the war would end, but it didn't. He was forced to take an action that made him lose what he had become. Or perhaps, he had always been this way inside, it just took this awful act to make it truly shine.

Now he wasn't sure what he dreamed of. Blood...screaming...children crying. The beating of drums and manic laughter, the cold voices of enemies past and-

"How did you know about the time vortex?" the woman asked from the cell next to him.

The Time Lord was so shocked, he almost choked. "What?"

"Are you deaf?" she asked humorlessly. "There's only a select number of people in the universe who know about the time vortex."

"I'm the original controller of time, _sweetie_," he said darkly. "All that is, all that was-"

"All that ever could be," she finished.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am no one, and everyone all at once," she answered him. "But I used to be called Rose Tyler."

"Rose Tyler," he repeated, liking the way her name rolled off his tongue so easily.

"And who are you?" she fired back.

"I used to be someone important, once upon a time. Now I'm just...The Oncoming Storm."

At the mention of the title, the room seemed to take on a certain stillness, so still you could hear a pin drop.

"You've heard of me, then?" he joked.

"No," she scoffed. "S'just...I used to have a-friend. A friend that used to call himself that to his enemies."

"Ah, well. That's unfortunate."

"What did you used to be called?" she asked him.

This time it was he that was silent.

"_I wanna hide the truth,_

_I wanna shelter you,_

_But with the beast inside,_

_There's nowhere we can hide."_

"You don't wanna know who I used to be. I broke the promise," he said.

"What promise?" the prisoner, Rose, asked.

"Never cruel, nor cowardly. Never give up, never give in," the Time Lord recited.

"Which part did you break?" she asked quietly.

"All of it. I destroyed my people. I destroyed worlds. I-" He broke off, looking at the wall forlornly.

"I have, too," she told him. "It changes things, doesn't it?"

"It changes everything," he said matter-of-factly.

"Worst of all, it feels...good," Rose admitted. "The power of it all, but-"

"But what?" he prompted when she didn't continue.

"It makes you hurt the people you love."

"Was your friend one of them?"

She sighed. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," he said, because he was.

"_No matter what we breed,_

_We still are made of greed. _

_This is my kingdom come,_

_This is my kingdom come."_

The Time Lord wondered for a while if there was ever a way he could be rehabilitated, but maybe the answer was he was too far gone. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be anyways. The power sang through his veins, dancing triumphantly through his muscles and bones. There were no rules of time, he was the sole controller of them. He could dictate everyone's lives until the end of time, or the end of his own.

"How did the vortex transfer into you, anyways?" he asked Rose.

"There was a woman," she explained, "that trapped my friend and I. While we were enprisoned, she changed me with the same technology that was in his ship."

"So, you're from another time?" he asked.

"I'm from everywhere," she told him. "A child of time. I used to be a tiny Earth girl, workin' in a shop, and then...he saved me. The whole of time and space became ours."

"Was he a Time Agent?" he asked her.

She laughed at that. "No. We did have a friend that was, though."

"He was from the future then?"

"I'm not sure," she told him honestly. "He never specified whether his planet was or not. It didn't matter to me either way. We were…together. That's all that mattered."

"You didn't mind he was alien then?" he asked curiously.

"Nah."

"Better than most Earth girls, I'll give you that."

"He looked human, though. You would almost think he was, until he went off on one of his rants about Raxicoricofallipatorius or Daleks."

He frowned. "Your friend, who was he?"

"He called himself...it doesn't matter. Why are you so interested anyways? I'm guessin' you must be alien, yeah? If you knew about all this stuff. So, why don't you stop havin' me on, and explain yourself!"

"I told you, I'm the Oncoming Storm."

"Where are you from?" she asked him.

"A planet that doesn't exist anymore."

"That could be a lot of planets." He could feel the eye roll from where he was sitting.

"Did he ever tell you about Gallifrey?"

"H-how do you know about that? He said he was the last of the Time Lords. Are you one, too? Or are you from the agency that captured us and made me this? Made me the Bad Wolf?"

Suddenly, the glow grew stronger, and he knew if he didn't answer quickly, she could vaporize every single atom in his body like he was nothing.

"I'm a Time Lord!" he said quickly. "I thought I was the last one!"

"WHAT WAS YOUR NAME!?" she screamed at him.

The door burst open, the U.N.I.T. guards entered the room, brandishing a large needle, but before they could reach her, they turned to dust in front of his eyes.

"I'm givin' you one last chance," she warned him. "Tell me, or I'll do the same thing to you. My control is slippin' further and further."

"It was the Doctor!" he yelled, ashamed at himself for turning into a coward at the mere thought of a woman who could vaporize his very being. He had stood up to Daleks. Wasn't that the same sort of thing? No, he told himself. That agency knew exactly what they were doing when they turned her into a weapon. Stupid ape women and their stupid emotions.

"It was _what_?" she asked in shock, the glow receding across the room.

"The Doctor," he said hoarsely.

"It can't be," she whispered.

"Sorry, why's that?" he asked, feeling much sassier now that the imminent threat had gone.

"That was my friend's name."

"_When you feel my heat,_

_Look into my eyes. _

_It's where my demons hide, _

_It's where my demons hide."_

A clicking noise came from beside him and then the prisoner suddenly appeared in front of his cell. She quickly made short work of his cell. She was more beautiful than he had pictured in his head. Hair as golden as the vortex itself, softly curled. Pink skin, and large brown eyes. _Pink and yellow human, _he thought to himself.

She threw her arms around his neck, and the Doctor had half the mind to shove her back.

She pulled back from him. "Don't you recognize me?" she asked him, tears streaming down her face.

"Sorry, no." He frowned at her. "Think I'd remember if I met you."

"You more than met me." Her smile quickly dipped. "I was your companion."

"Oh." He rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"What d'you say we break out of here?" She grinned at him, slipping her tongue between her teeth.

And for the first time in a long time, the Doctor found himself grabbing her hand greedily and running for their lives.

"_Don't get too close, _

_It's dark inside. _

_It's where my demons hide,_

_It's where my demons hide."_

Together, they were unstoppable. The Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf destroying galaxies and worlds. Somewhere out there, there was a better version of themselves saving them, they were sure. But they? They couldn't resist the urge. They didn't want to.

AN (again): I know this sort of leaves a lot of questions, which I wanted it to. I wanted a dark Rose and Doctor fic, and no happy ending. I also realize I didn't use the whole song for this fic, but I liked leaving off where it was.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I got really sad when I couldn't find ANY Nine/Rose high school AU's. So, I made my own!

In her first year at school, Jonathan doesn't hear anything about her. He doesn't even know she exists, because all she does is show up to school and do her work, then go down to the shops to work.

Then, her second year comes, and it's like she's a completely different girl. All it takes is one new mate, Shareen, to corrupt her, and then she spirals. Suddenly, everyone knows her name. Rose Tyler, of the Powell Estates. Isn't it not a surprise to see another Powell Estate girl running off with mates and boys instead of in school, smoking and drinking herself to death?

He catches glimpses of her when she does make it to school, the days getting fewer and further between, and wonders how he never noticed her before. Sure, her reputation proceeds her, but what the rumors fail to mention is her beauty, her compassion, her zest for life, and it's what draws Jonathan in.

The first time he ever sees her, is in the halls. The chaos of students trying to make it to class is overwhelming, too much for him sometimes, and then: he sees her. Rose is talking to someone, and it looks like quite a private conversation, her body pressed against his, lips against his ear, murmuring something that sounds reassuring as the tension in the boy relaxes.

He wonders if they know each other, or maybe it's just a random distressed student she's felt sorry for. He can't help but wonder what she might feel like pressed up against him.

…

The first time she speaks to him, he's run out of lunch money. He dropped a pence of it on the way to school, noticing far too late to his chagrin, his well worn trousers have a whole in the pocket. The lunch lady is fierce, she won't accept a pence less than regular price for lunch. Defeated, Jonathan drops his tray and stalks off across the cafeteria.

"Are you okay, mate?" a soft voice comes from behind him, and he whirls around about to scathingly reply if he look's alright, _mate_.

It's her. Rose Tyler. He swallows his bitter reply, and instead gives her a silly grin. "Always alright, me."

She nods her head, once. "D'you wanna come sit with my mates and I? My mum made me an extra sandwich." She shakes her head at this, exasperatedly, but he can see a fondness. "Always thinks I eat like Mickey."

"Who's Rickey?" he finds himself asking.

"It's Mickey," she pokes a rather tantalizing tongue in between her teeth. "An' he's a mate of mine. Known 'im since we were kids, growin' up on the estate together.

He wonders what his father would think, associating with an estate girl, but he can't find it in himself to care. "Yeah, okay," he says finally. "Sandwich sounds jus' fine."

She smiles at that, and leads him over to her table. Her friends are looking at her curiously.

"You brough Jonathan Smith to 'ave lunch with us?" her friend Shareen asks amusedly.

Rose shrugs. "Doesn't 'ave money for lunch."

The boy sitting with them, probably Mickey, looks over at her. "The famous Jonathan Smith has no money for lunch." He snorts. "Yeah, right. Prob'ly just saw that skirt you were wearin'."

Jonathan's blood boils at the way the boy looks her up and down appraisingly, and for the first time, he's noticed her skirt is rather short. A blush creeps over his ears, but he composes himself quickly.

"It's only you that noticed her hemline, you wanker," he said coldly. "Didn't even look at her clothes till just now, thanks."

Shareen snorted. "I like 'im, Rose."

…

Their next meeting was purely by chance.

Jonathan had gone to the store, and Rose was there, with an older, blonder woman he assumed was her mother. Before he had a chance to contemplate what he should do, Rose noticed him.

"Oi, there Jon!" she called, a grin decorating her face.

He tried his best to act surprised. "Hello!" he called, waving his fingers at her.

"Who's that, then?" her mother asked.

"A mate from school, mum," she explained.

"Fancy meetin' you here," he told her, smiling from ear to ear.

"More like you," Rose grins. "I thought you were from the north!"

"I am," he tells her seriously. "But it seems I can't stay away from London every time we run out of milk!"

She laughs at the absurdity of him. He can't blame her.

"See ya in school then?"

"Yeah," he tells her. "See ya."

…

He's running from the principal the next time he sees her, because he told him that he should probably become a post man if he thought string thoery was valid.

He doesn't know what possesses him to grab her hand, but he does. It startles her, takes her by surprises from the sudden motion, but she throws back her head and laughs.

"Rose Tyler!" he announces, panting slightly. "Run for your life!"

She never questions him, just does what he says. He doesn't know whether he should love her or hate her for it.

…

She invites him for chips and tea one afternoon.

"What are you doin' after school?" she asked.

"Oh, nothin'," he says. "Just you know, studyin'."

"Well," she says grandly, rolling the l's off her tongue, "forget all that. Come 'ave chips and tea with me."

"Now?" he asks, trying not to show how eager he is.

"Yeah, now." She flashes him another disarming grin, and he can never say no to her.

They walk hand in hand towards the chip shop at the corner of the street. Rose informs him it's her favorite, and he files the useful bit of information away for some day.

They order vinegar soaked chips, he remembers he doesn't have his wallet, Rose jokes he's a tightwad.

"S'not like I knew I was goin' to be takin' a pretty girl out for chips today, did I?" he asks her, and she blushes faintly before digging her own wallet out and placing some money on the counter.

…..

He's woken from his sleep by his mobile ringing. Confused as to who has his number and would be calling him this late, he slams the talk button down.

"'Lo?" he answers, voice thick from sleep.

"Jon?" a familiar voice drifts through the speaker, and he suddenly finds himself wide awake.

"Rose? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He panics, throwing on the nearest jumper and trousers and his leather jacket.

"M'fine." She chuckles low and sweet, and he fears he might be falling in love with this golden haired girl in year 10, and there's nothing he can do about it.

"How'd you get my number?" he asks confusedly, never remembering writing it down for her.

"I have my ways," she says mysteriously. "Anyways, Jon, come out with us."

"Come out with who _where_?" he asks.

"There's a pub 'bout ten blocks from the estates, thought you might like a drink. An' it's me, Shareen, Micks, and Trisha."

He sighed. "Yeah, be there soon."

"You alright?" she asks.

"Yeah, fine. Just, was asleep tha's all."

"'Kay." He can hear the smile in her voice and she ends the call.

…..

They're stumbling all over each other later, drunk, and clumsy to boot. They called goodbye to the others, and Rose had convinced Jonathan to let her see his house.

"You think you're so impressive all the time," she tells him with a giggle. "For all I know, though, you live in the estate!"

"Oi!" he protests. "S'nough outta you!"

"Yeah?" che challenges him, an eyebrow raised. "What'cha gonna do 'bout it, Mr. Impressive?"

He shows her, the alcohol coursing through his veins giving him the courage to do what he can't when he's sober.

There's a sound of them hitting the grass beside the pavement, a rolling around, and a gnashing of teeth as they clumsily kiss each other. He pulls her the closest he can to him, stroking her tongue with his, and _oh _he's wanted this for so long. His hands tangle in her hair, and she reaches around to tug on his locks that have gotten unruly in the night air.

She breaks apart from him, a shy look passing over her face. "Could we go back to your house now?" she asks.

A look of disappointment passes over his face, before she quickly assuages it, pressing kisses to his cheeks, eyelids, and nose.

"Was thinkin' you might show me an _extensive_ tour of your room," she says, looking at him hopefully.

He grins at her. "Fantastic!" He presses his lips to hers once more, and says "Precious girl." He deposits them back on their feet, and hails down a cab.

…..

No sooner than they get into his bedroom, Rose is tugging at his shirt, her hands running over his chest. He can't breathe, she's wound him so tight, and he moves his lips over her own once more.

"I haven't, uhm, done, you know, this," she tells him quietly.

"Me either," he admits. He takes her hands gently in his. "We can learn together, yeah?"

She gives him a heart stopping smile. "Yeah."


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Alright, time for another little situational AU?ish of sorts. This is my take on what made the Doctor come back for Rose. Loosely based on Teenage Dirtbag originally by Wheatus but the version that inspired me was the cover by Mary Lambert. Seriously, go listen.

"_I have a dream about her." _

The shopgirl had denied a trip in his ship. It wasn't the first time he had been refused, and probably wasn't going to be the last, but this time hurt the most. The emptiness of Gallifrey had been weighing him down as of lately, and he needed someone, now more than ever.

If he was going to completely be honest, he had felt something when he took her hand. Well, chalk that up to randy old Time Lords who were lonely.

He blocked the thought out of his head. It wouldn't be good to go and get himself all shaken up over Rose. Oh.

He was trying to forget her name; forget the way it rolled nicely off his tongue and made his hearts beat faster.

The Doctor chastised himself for being so ridiculous. She was a _human _girl: warm, alive, and safe. Everything she wouldn't be with him. Her life span was laughably shorter than his, so, what, really, did he expect to acheive with her anyways? She only would see him as an alien. An old, broken alien. She had a boyfriend, anyways. Too many domestics for him.

Her timeline shifted in front of his eyes as he concentrated on it. She was going to marry that idiot. Marry him and stay a shopgirl, give her mother grandkids, die at an old age surrounded by her own children and the boy. Shouldn't he be happy about that?

No. He was selfish, more selfish than he could ever remember being, and he wanted her all to himself. He wanted someone's hand to hold and travel the stars with, show her the wonders of the universe. He would be her best mate, he would…

Suddenly a mauve alert appeared on his screen and the would-be companion was (temporarily) forgotten.

"_Oh, how she rocks." _

When the TARDIS landed, the Doctor stepped out to see what the commotion was. Concentrate on saving the day. Maybe there would be another chance for a companion. One that would make him forget about Rose (except for when he was alone again).

To his surprise, he landed on the Titanic. As in the ship that was about to sink, even though the "experts" claimed it was unsinkable. He was about to turn around and go right back into his TARDIS when he heard a throat clear next to him.

"Hello," the voice said.

"Hello?" the Doctor replied. "Erm, what is it?" His arm dropped from the handle he had been about to grab and turned to face the voice.

"I'm Clara," the woman introduced. "Clara Oswin Oswald, Doctor, at your service."

His eyes narrowed. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "I should say so!"

"Then, why don't I remember you?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. This is the complicated part. I travel with you, but it's a future version of you."

His brow furrowed and he glanced around the ship. "I s'pose that would explain why you knew what the TARDIS was. Where's the other me, then?"

"Oh, he's not here," Clara assured him. "He's trapped somewhere. But, I'm here, because I'm supposed to save all of his incarnations."

That made his mind drift back to earlier that night, Rose swinging on a chain to save him from the Nestene Consciousness.

"_I've got no A-levels, no job, no future. But I tell you what I have got. Jericho Street Junior School under seven's gymanstic team. I've got the bronze!" _

_He caught her in his arms and was stunned by her complete lack of concern for her own safety, but for him instead. He tried not to notice her warmth pressed into his arms. _

Her throat cleared again.

"Ah, right. Rude, sorry," he said gruffly. "If you're here to save me from the Titanic, don't bother. I was just on my way." He gestured towards his ship. "Now, how are you gettin' out of here?"

"Oh, don't worry about me," she told him, waving him off. "Just an echo, me."

"_But she doesn't know who I am,_

_And she doesn't give a damn about me." _

"So, you came to warn me about the Titanic. Thanks," he said. "But like I said, I know better."

"That's not what I'm here for," Clara said.

"Then what?" he asked, frowning. "Aliens onboard the ship?"

"No," she laughed. "Rose."

"How d'you know about her? Does she travel with me?" He can't help but ask.

"I'm here to tell you you've got to ask her again."

He chuckled darkly at that. "I never ask twice. 'Sides I think she made it quite clear, she doesn't want anythin' to do with me or my ship." His eyes drifted to the ground.

"Oi, you still do that kicked puppy look," Clara swore. "But I'm here, because Rose Tyler saves you."

"_Her boyfriend's a jerk, _

_And he'd simply kick _

_My ass if he knew the truth."_

The Doctor scoffed at that. "Thought she had a stupid lump of a boyfriend to take care of? Certainly couldn't seem to let go of her."

She looked at him with amusement. "Is this what you sound like when you're jealous? D'you love her?"

He blinked at her. "I just met her," he told Clara. "How could I love her?" The idiot would probably call the police or try to threaten him if he knew he had any sort of feeling for his girlfriend, anyways.

She shook her head. "I know what's inside your head, Doctor."

"Right, well, this was a nice chat, but-"

"She loves you, too, you know," Clara said, tiliting her head. "Maybe not yet, but…"

He drew in a sharp breath. "Why are you doin' this?"

"So you'll go back for her," she said simply.

"_He doesn't know who I am,_

_And he doesn't give a damn about me." _

"I already told you," the Doctor said. "She has a boyfriend. He practically tripped her for even thinkin' about leavin' him for my ship."

"You underestimate her, then," Clara said. "I think she could pry him off with proper incentive."

He shook his head, still unsure. "You didn't hear what he said. 'Don't! He's a thing!' and Rose didn't come, did she?"

"Because she was tryin' to do the responsible thing, you daft man," she said. "Try this. Why don't you go back and say: Did I mention it also travels in time?"

"Sounds like a cheesy pick-up line," he scowled.

"I thought that's what we were going for here," she teased. "Seriously, though, Doctor. Ask her again. She'll say yes. She'll help you heal after the Time War. You need her, don't deny it." Clara turned to walk away.

"Wait!" he called out, and she turned back with an eyebrow raised in amusement. "What happens to you?"

"Never mind me," she said. "I've had worse fates. Go to her."

The Doctor pursed his lips, but knew better than to interfere with a fixed point.

"_Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'._

_Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'."_

The Doctor soun around the console madly, yanking down levers, grinning maniacally. If that Clara girl was to be trusted, he would have Rose back! She was going to travel with him!

The TARDIS landed exactly two seconds after he had dematerialized, and he yanked the door open with excitement. He leaned against the frame, trying to look non-commital.

"Did I mention it also travels in time?"

Waits a beat, two, three. A smile spreads across her face.

She turns towards the idiot.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?" he asked confusedly.

"Exactly," she said and kisses his cheek.

"_Low and behold,_

_She's walking over to me. _

_This must be fake, _

_My lip starts to shake."_

And then, gloriously, Rose is running towards him, wearing the most brilliant grin he's ever seen, and how can he not smile back?

He can't believe he's actually gotten her to come along. He thinks of doing that silly Earth superstition of pinching himself to see if he hadn't fallen asleep on top of the console. It wouldn't be the first time, and it had been an exhausting week.

But then she's steadying herself on his arm, and he almost wants to throw all his bloody Time Lord rules out the window because he's so giddy he could kiss her. Instead, he closes the door.

He turns away from her.

"_How does she know who I am?_

_And why does she give a damn about me?"_

"Right then, Rose Tyler, you tell me. Where d'you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time. It's your choice. What's it goin' to be?" Doesn't tell her she could choose to go into the middle of a Dalek fleet right now, and he would still do it.

"Forwards."

"How far?" he asked.

She thinks. "One hundred years."

The need to impress her overwhelms him, and he desperately begs the TARDIS to land in the right place this time. "There you go," he announced, after checking the screen.

"_Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'._

_Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin'."_

But he's too selfish to tell her, and let her life a proper life. Instead, he waves grandly at the door. Takes her hand, smiles down at her.

He hopes it's enough.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I'm glad everyone has been enjoying these little one-shots of AU Nine and Rose! :) This one is inpsired by Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood.

"_All I am, is a man._

_I want the world in my hands."_

She looked familiar to him somehow. Like he had met her before, maybe a long time ago. She was blonde, young, and smiling. Her hips were swaying back and forth to the music, but she was leaning against the wall and observing instead of mixed up in the fray of sweaty moving bodies.

She seemed so important, like she was his whole world. How could she be his whole world, if he had never met her? And then, a flash.

_He was tracking some sort of living plastic mannequin. There was a basement in a department store, there was a girl. He couldn't see her face, but he was positive it was the girl leaning against the wall. _

_She had her eyes scrunched up close, fear radiating from her entire being. She was afraid of these things he was tracking. He took her hand in his, the whole world seemed to align with her in that moment. "Run!" he said to her, and they took off for the safety of the elevator._

When he snapped out of this daydream, delusion, whatever you wanted to call it, she was gone. He searched the floor for her, and he saw her. Dancing with some pretty boy that he somehow knew called himself a captain, only he wasn't, doesn't she know that honestly?

Before he could stop himself, he was marching across the floor. "Hands off the blonde," he told the not-captain firmly.

The pretty boy raised his eyebrows and looked at the girl. She shrugged and he walked off towards another girl by herself. Now, standing in front of her, and having no right to break up this dance she was sharing with the pretty boy, his hands rub his neck uncomfortably.

"I'm, er, sorry," he said, not knowing what else he could say.

Then she's assuring him with her hands on his, pulling him towards her. "Come here, you," she said.

Holding her hands felt so right, but there was somewhere else you were supposed to put your hands when you danced. Being around her short circuited that part of his brain.

"You will find your feet at the end of your legs," she whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver, causing him to think by the amusement in her voice that this is supposed to be some sort of private joke they share.

He places his hands on her hips, and she puts hers on his shoulders and they sway awkwardly back and forth, and suddenly he thinks maybe this is the worst idea he's ever had because he has no idea what he's doing. The lights are too bright, the music is too loud, she is too warm and too young, and…she moves with him perfectly in sync now. He doesn't know how or why, but he is grateful he did not show up here to impress her and then not have anything impressing at all.

"_I hate the beach,_

_But I stand in California_

_With my toes in the sand."_

Another glimpse, of something he feels must be a memory.

_They're on a beach, and he knows it's not Earth, but that's ridiculous, because there's no way he could travel to other planets. She looks radiant, like she always does, pale yellow two piece to match her pale yellow hair and she takes his breath away. _

_He hates beaches, and he has a feeling that will never go away, in fact might only get worse as he gets older, but he's here because she asked. He never could deny her anything. Not when she looks like that, the sun making her hair reds, blues, brilliant pinks and oranges; not when water drips off her body so fast she's like her own river; not when she teases him and makes him finally stop curling his toes into the sand and come swim with her instead. _

_When he sheds his jacket and jumper she gasps._

She's looking at him like she's trying to figure a puzzle out, but he thinks he must look the same. She bites down on her lip, and he can think of other times she's done this and it's driven him crazy, even though this is only their first meeting.

"M Rose," she said to him.

Rose, he thinks, testing the name on his tongue, rolling it around, deciding he likes the way her name sounds. He might never say anyone else's name but hers again. Then he realizes she's waiting for him to give his name.

"John," he replied.

Her brow furrows like she doesn't believe him.

"_Use the sleeves of my sweater,_

_Let's have an adventure._

_Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered."_

Her fingers curl into his jumper as they move now, like she's trying to convince herself he's here, and he's not going to leave her. He pulls her closer, if it will make her feel better. It seems he's always trying to do that. How could she think he's going to leave her? He can't.

He's addicted to her scent now, the way she moves, the way she looks at him. He would never give her up for anything, but he knows he has to at the end of the night, when she goes back to her place and he goes back to his, but this makes him frown.

He thinks she might be jeopardy friendly, he thinks they used to live together.

"_You were useless in there," she said to him. "You'd be dead if it wasn't for me."_

_If only she knew how many ways she saved him already. He can't say that, so instead he says, "Yes, I would. Thank you. Right then, I'll be off, unless, er, I dunno, you could come with me. This box just isn't the London Hopper, you know. It goes anywhere in the universe fre of charge." He thinks he lives out his entire life, hearts beating wildly for her to say something, anything._

_Instead it's that idiotic boyfriend of hers, clinging to her disgustingly like a leech. "Don't! He's an alien. He's a thing." _

_He sneers at him. "He's not invited. What d'you think? You could stay here, fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go anywhere." She has to say yes, she has to. No way she'll refuse this chance, he knows. _

"_Is it always this dangerous?" she asked. _

_For a moment, he considers lying, just so she will go with him. But, he can't lie to her. "Yeah."_

_He sees her consider for a moment, take a deep breath, thinks she might say yes. ""Yeah, I can't. I've, er, I've gotta go find my mum, and someone's gotta look after this stupid lump, so."_

_He pretends her answer doesn't affect him. "Okay. See you around." Even though he knows when he leaves, he'll probably never see her again. But he does come back, just a few seconds later and says, "Did I mention it also travels in time?" _

_That's the winning ticket and he knows it, she says something to her boyfriend, kisses his cheek, and runs towards him, grinning. _

"Have we met before?" he asked her. Her eyes raise in surprise. "Sorry, it's just...you look really familiar. Like, I've known you my whole life."

"No, sorry," she said. "Haven't met before. But I know what you mean." Her hand covers his cheek. She smiles.

"D'you have a boyfriend?" he blurted out.

"Sorry?" she asked confusedly, smirking in amusement.

"It's just, I had this feeling you did, and that he was idiotic."

"Would you be talkin' about Jack?" she asked, nodding towards the not-captain.

"No," he said. "He looked different. Is Jack your boyfriend?"

"No," she laughed. "Just a really good mate."

"_Touch my neck and I'll touch yours._

_You in those little high waisted shorts, oh."_

Her hands slip around his neck, and he mirrors her. She slides her palms against the skin there, and he can't help thinking she feels a little too familiar to be a stranger to him.

He trails his hand up her neck, trying to memorize the curve of her neck, where her hairline stops, her pulsepoint, her ears.

She does the same to him, only she pauses at his pulsepoint like she's trying to understand something, frowning in deep concentration.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I thought…" she said, then shakes her head. "Doesn't matter."

His gaze travels down towards her legs, and his resolve to try to keep his wits about him has crumbled when he sees the tiny high waisted shorts she is wearing.

"_She knows what I think about,_

_And what I think about…"_

"I was wonderin'" he starts before he can stop himself, but instead she takes his hand.

"I know," she said. "And I will."

He beams at her in the moment, a grin he know will make her smile at him like the Sun is shining through, and he is rewarded with it a few moments later.

He leads her gently out of the pub towards his apartment.

"_Okay, so he's vanished into thin air. Why is it always the great lookin' ones who do that?" she asked, and his hearts constrict painfully at the thought she might not think him attractive, because he thinks she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in space and time. _

"_I'm makin' an effort not to be insulted," he said from the corner, working on the bars of the window with a screwdriver. _

"_I mean men," she said flippantly. _

"_Okay, thanks, that really helped," he said sarcastically._

Well, it's time to show her how beautiful she is, to make the outcome different. John kisses her as soon as the door to his apartment is open. He closes it with no effort, and snogs the breath of of her against the door.

She responds enthusiastically, tongue crashing against his, tugging on his lapels so hard he thinks the jacket might rip in half before it gets taken off. It's like they had been waiting their entire lives for this moment.

He breaks away for a moment, wants to assure her he just isn't a creepy bloke who could be her dad picking her up in the pub for a quick shag. "I don't do this thing often," he said to her.

"I know," was all she said, and pulled him towards her again.

"_You just assume I'm-" he broke off angrily._

"_What?" she challenged, raising her eyebrows. _

"_You just assume I don't dance," he huffed. _

"_What are you tellin' me you do dance?" she asked. Was that hope in her eyes?_

"_Nine hundred years old, me. I've been around a bit. I think you can assume at one point I've danced," he told her. _

_She ponders him for a moment, like she is imagining the dancing. "You?" she asked._

"_Problem?" He couldn't help but sneer at the fact she must find him that repulsive if she can't even imagine it. _

"_Doesn't the universe implode or somethin' if you dance?" she asked, and he can see is just really curious. _

"_Well," he announced, "I've got the moves, but I wouldn't wanna boast."_

_A mischevious glint lit up her eyes. She held out her hand in front of him tantalizingly. "You got the moves? Show me your moves." _

Her legs had moved around to his waist, and she was pinning him against her. "You've got the moves?" she murmured in his ear.

He growled at that, and he showed her exactly what his moves were.

"_One love, two mouths._

_One love, one house._

_No shirt, no blouse." _

She mumbled something to him, and it woke him.

"What was that?" he asked sleepily.

"Said mornin'," she said.

"D'you want to know why I brought you back here?" he asked her, tracing lazy circles on her bare back.

"Cause you wanna kill me?" she joked.

He looked horrfied at her comment. "No," he assured her. "I keep havin' these, things, I dunno if they're memories or daydreams. But they're like flashes of a life I used to have. Last night, when I saw you at the pub I kept having a bunch of them revolving around you. I felt like, you weren't a stranger, if that makes sense." He winced at how his words sounded. "Please don't have me committed."

She laughed at that. "I won't." She turned towards him and frowned. "You're havin' flashes of daydreams?"

"They _feel _like memories," he said, "but that would be ridiculous 'cause I would remember all those things I did. Right?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"How 'bout chips?" he asked her. "I could really go for some chips."

"Only if you're buyin'," she teased, slipping her tongue between her teeth and making his breath hitch.

"Only if you stop grinnin' like that," he told her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Cause it makes me want to kiss you," he told her, "and I shouldn't so we can eat."

She giggled at that, grabbing the sheet and getting up from the bed.

"_Just us, you'll find out._

_Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no."_

She spent all day with him, and they had just curled up on his couch to watch some telly when her mobile blared.

"Who is it?" he asked curiously.

"Jack," she answered him. "Better answer him since I disappeared on him last night."

He watched her talk to him in muted tones. He lay his head back against the sofa, just drifting until he heard, "I think I'm gonna stay a little longer. I don't know how long. I'm not gonna go into details about that!"

He smirked.

"I know we are, Jack. I can't just leave 'im, though, can I? Aye, aye captain," she joked.

"He's not really a captain, Rose!" he yelled over the sofa.

There was a pregnant pause in the air. Then, "Don't you dare say anythin' Jack. Bye!"

"_Cause it's too cold_

_For you here and now._

_So let me hold_

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater." _

"I don't see why we had to come here," he grumbled. "Too cold for you, for sure. You shiver every five seconds."

"You know it's five seconds exactly," she joked, teeth chattering.

"Oh, for gosh sakes! Just give up and admit it was way too cold for us to be out here!"

"Are you cold?" she asked, smirking up at him. "Need me to warm you up?"

"No," he scoffed. "I'm never cold."

"Then maybe it's 'cause you're not in the proper spirit! That's why we're here," she said.

"I don't see how I'm goin' to get in the spirit of Christmas by choppin' down a tree while I freeze my arse off!" he exclaimed.

"Aha!" she shouted. "You admit it!"

He blushed. "No. Just come on, let's get it done, then. Sooner we get back to my flat, the sooner I can make hot cocoa."

"Hot cocoa and trees, haven't we gone domestic?" she asked.

"Always been domestic," he told her, confused. "The first thing we did the mornin' after was get chips."

She laughed at that. "Seems we're always doin' that."

He laced his fingers through hers and led her towards the trees. "A month and you've already got me besotted," he sighed.

"Had you besotted since the moment you saw me," she teased him.

He shrugged. "Suppose. Let's just go get that bloody tree." He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

"_And if I may just take your breath away,_

_I don't mind if it's not much to say._

_Sometimes the silence guides our minds so,_

_Move to a place so far away." _

He was waiting impatiently with Jack for her to come down the stairs. They were supposed to be going to some sort of New Year's party and she was taking the longest time to get ready.

But when he saw her, it was worth every second. Her dress was gold, flowing from her like it was a part of her, her hair was in loose curls, and his breath was caught in his throat.

"Beautiful," Jack said behind him before he could say anything.

He nodded and offered his hand to her.

"_Doctor, that bomb, we've got seconds," the man said. _

"_You can teleport us out," she said calmly._

"_Not you guys," the man said sadly. The nav-com's back online. Going to take too long to override the protocols." _

"_So, it's volcano day. Do what you've gotta do," he said. He already had another plan for down on the ground._

"_Jack?"_

"Are you alright?" she asked him, moving her hand in front of his face.

He shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Just a bit of a headache."

She and Jack traded looks, and he wondered what that was all about.

"_The goose bumps start to raise_

_The minute that my left hand meets your waist._

_And then I watch your face,_

_Put my fingers on your tongue,_

_'Cause you love the taste yeah."_

She was on his arm again. This was only the second time that they had danced since they met, but they had _danced _plenty of times. He was surprised he still had so much of an affect on her, but it made him happy to know he did.

He placed his hand around her waist, and immediate goosebumps started to form. He leaned into her ear and murmured, "Cold?"

"No," she said, and flushed a brilliant shade of red. "Just you, that's all."

"Mmm," he hums happily, and twirls her around the party goers, the excitement penetrating the air so thickly as the new year dawns closer and closer, he thinks about what he wants from this year.

It brings his mind to the box in his dresser drawer that he's saving for the right moment. It then brings to mind something else.

_He promised her a shopping trip. Something about reapers, whatever those were, and her father. She had lost her father all over again, and even though she blamed herself, and he had pushed that blame on her when he was angry and scared and even jealous as she accused, it was his fault. _

_His fault, because he knew the fraility of human emotions, he knew her compassion and love firsthand, he knew before she ran out towards her father it was goig to happen, because that's who she was, but he still let it happen because of his stupid inability to say no to her. She was going to be his death one day. This little human shopgirl from the twenty-first century had become everything to him, and that had terrified him to death. _

_So, he thought about something on that trip while she wandered ahead of him. What if he found something to let her know how much he cared? Not a ring, he never understood those silly huma traditions, but something special to his own people. He would have to explain, but…_

_And that's when everything went to hell._

A thundering roar crashed through his mind, making him stumble away from her. Making him gasp so hard he thought the air was being sucked from his lungs.

"John?" she asked worriedly, going over to his side. "You alright?"

He grunted in pain. "Been havin' lots of headaches from those daydreams today."

"Stay right here," she ordered. "I'm goin' to go get Jack."

He watched her cross the room and murmur something to him. Jack glanced at him worriedly and pulled some sort of device from his pocket and started waving it back and forth in the air.

What was that going to do for him? All he needed was some ibuprofen and water.

She returned to his side with a cup of water. "Drink this," she ordered, and he happily obliged.

Jack strode across the room. "Rose, we have a problem."

"What problem?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"They're coming," Jack told her.

"Who's coming!" he demanded.

"_Okay, this can fuction as a sonic blaster, a sonic cannon, and as a triple-enfolded sonic disrupter. Doc, what have you got?" _

_Red flushed into his cheeks. He really had all that? Lucky for them, his screwdriver was better than all that, but he wouldn't understand. "I've got a sonic, er, never mind."_

"_What?" he asked. _

"_It's sonic, okay? Leave it at that." _

"_Disrupter? Cannon? What?" he demanded._

"_Screwdriver!" _

"Twelve!" The countdown had started, and the throbbing in his head had gotte worse.

"Rose, we haveta go as soon as this countdown. 'M sorry, but gotta headache the worse I ever felt," he told her.

"Yeah," she said absentmindedly searching the room.

"_These hearts adore_

_Everyone the other beats hardest for._

_Inside this place is warm,_

_Outside it starts to pour." _

"Eleven!"

"Rose," Jack warned, "they're getting closer."

"Don't you think I know that!" she yelled at him, then fliched. "Sorry. Just, how do I tell 'im?"

"Tell me what?" he snapped, his teeth gritting together in pain.

"You were right," she said, "about the daydreams. They were memories."

"They were _what?_" he asked. "They can't be. I'm just a human!"

"But you're not," she said. "You're a nine hundred plus year old alien, from the planet Gallifrey. You have a ship called the TARDIS, and Jack and I are your companions." She placed a hand on his arm, and he jumped away like he had been burned. A look of hurt flashed across her face.

"_Don't_!" he hissed. "I want to trust you, Rose. I love you. But what you're sayin' isn't makin' any sense."

"It does, though," Jack piped up. "You know it does. Think about your life, this life. Does it make any more sense?"

"Ten!"

"_Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, ooo, this could be a little more sonic?" _

"_I do!" _

"Nine!"

"_This is wrong, you should go dowstairs."_

"_Tough."_

"Eight!"

"_I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?" _

"_Rose."_

"_Nice to meet you, Rose. Now, run for your life!" _

"Seven!"

"_You think you're so impressive." _

"_I am so impressive." _

"_You wish."_

"Six!"

"_I'm a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. They're all gone. I'm the only survivor. I'm left travellin' on my own, 'cause there's no one else." _

"_There's me." _

"_You've seen how dangerous it is-Do you want to go home?" _

"_I dunno...I want...Oh, can you smell chips?"_

"_Yeah. Yeah!" _

"_I want chips." _

"_Me too!" _

"_Right then, before you get me back into that box, chips it is, and you can pay." _

"_No money." _

"_What sort of date are you? Come on then, tightwad, chips are on me!" _

"Five!"

"_Don't laugh!" _

"_You look beautiful! Considering." _

"_Considering what?" _

"_That you're human." _

"Four!"

"_I'm so glad I met you!" _

"_Me too!"_

"Three!"

"_I could save the world, but lose you."_

"Two!"

"_Get out of the way! Rose, get out of the way now!"_

"_No. I won't let you do this."_

"_That thing killed hundreds of people."_

"_It's not the one pointin' the gun at me."_

"_I've got to do this. I've got to end it! The Daleks destroyed my home, my people! I've got nothin' left!"_

"_Look at it."_

"_What's it doin'?"_

"_It's the sunlight, that's all it wants."_

"_But it can't."_

"_It couldn't kill Van Statten, it couldn't kill me. It's changin'. What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changin' into?"_

"_I couldn't...I wasn't...Oh, Rose. They're all dead."_

"One!"

"_History says there was an explosion here, and who am I to argue with history?" _

"_Usually the first in line."_

"Happy new year!" the crowd finished.

His Time Lord consciousness came rushing through his mind forcefully. He gasped and reached for her hand.

"Rose?"

AN: I know I am evil and awful for ending these on such cliffhangers, but shhhh.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I've had this one laying around for a while, and I've finally finished it! I was thinking about bringing Jimmy Stone into the high school AU, just to add another layer, but decided against it. However, with this one, I will. Rose will be a bit darker, as she will be in a relationship with Jimmy at the beginning. This AU is inspired by White Blank Page by Mumford and Sons.

"_Can you lie next to her_

_And give her your heart, your heart_

_As well as your body?" _

His first thought was she was too young to be in this pub. His second thought was that she was beautiful, considering. His final thought before he crossed the crowd to join her was she looked a little on edge, dangerous, and like the slightest move might break her.

"I'm John Smith," he told her as soon as he sat down, his hand immediately going up to wave over the bartender.

"M Rose," she said, "An' I'm not interested." Her body turned away from him.

He ordered a drink and spun her stool to face him. "I didn't mean I was interested. I mean, I'm interested in you, but not as a shag."

She looked at him, her eyes swimming with confusion and then a warmth he was sure would make any man fall in love with her. "Okay," she said finally.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Maybe I'm interested, too. In you," she clarified.

His face broke out into a grin on it's own accord. It made him happy to see a small slip of her lips.

"D'you want anythin'?" he asked her.

"A beer?" she asked hesitantly, biting down on her lip like he might refuse.

He glanced at her, assessing whether he should give in to her. She barely looked old enough to drink. Finally, he said, "Only one. If you tell me how old you are."

She sighed. "M nineteen."

His mouth turned down into a frown. "One," he repeated. "An' that's it."

She looked at him and nodded. "Fair enough."

…..

When she left, she placed a chaste kiss to his lips, so fleeting it was more of a whisper. His lips tingled the rest of the night. He wondered if he might fall in love.

"_And can you lie next to her_

_And confess your love, your love_

_As well as your folly?"_

The next time he saw her, Rose was picking up chips.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

She frowned at him. "Would not. But I got somewhere to be, sorry." She waved, and threw him a half hearted smile over her shoulder.

He couldn't just let her go, he couldn't. He ran after her, down the cracked pavement, and brushed her arm lightly.

She turned to look at him.

"I was wonderin', would you like to go out to my lake sometime?" he asked her.

"You 'ave a lake?" she asked, looking at him incredulously.

"Yeah," he said. "An' on my property."

"Kay," she said finally. "But, you have to give me the address."

"I can't pick you up?" John asked.

She smiled apologetically. "I sorta have a bad livin' situation right now."

"Nothin' I can't handle," he told her seriously, reaching for her hand.

She squeezes his gently and then drops it. "I really gotta go now. Just...d'you have a pen?"

He reaches around in his pockets until he produced one and hands it over. She scribbles something on his hand that he can't make out, and then she's leaving once more.

It's her number.

….

She came. Rose Tyler is actually at his house, and when she's looking like that at him, he can't find it in himself to think he's wrong.

Her hair is brushed back into a ponytail, swishing softly against her neck. The only thing that strikes him as odd is that Rose has a soft pink jacket covering her arms and jeans on her legs.

"I thought you wanted a swim," he teased her.

"Will do," she tells him, smiling softly.

"Then what are you dressed like that for? It's sweltering!"

"S'nothing," she promises. "I'll take it off soon as we get down to the water."

He nods, and leads her to the back, the lake glittering like millions of diamonds are on the surface and Rose gasps beside him.

"I've never seen such beautiful water," she tells him breathlessly, then she's grabbing his hand and it's the first time he's ever heard her laugh, tugging him down to the water's edge.

Her laugh is so lovely, yet so heartbreaking. Her voice cracks every now and then like it's not used to laughter. He's going to solve that.

John quickly sheds his t-shirt and sandals and dives into the water, surfacing quickly to wait for Rose.

She's frozen suddenly, and he wonders what happened.

"Everythin' alright?" he called out to her.

She blinks something away. Suddenly she's tugging at her clothes, and is that a bruise he sees? But before he can study it, she dives in, and he thinks maybe it was just the shadows from the trees on her body.

She splashes his face, and he grins, thinking of a sudden plan. John swims up next to her and grabs her from behind, tucking her into his chest. Before she can protest, he's dunking them under the water together, and then she's struggling. He thinks maybe she can't swim, and he's an idiot.

He drags them up to the surface. She's shaking so hard, he thinks she might give herself a heart attack.

"Oh, Rose," he murmurs, pulling her close. "I'm sorry. Can you swim?"

"Yeah," she lets out. "Just not too keen on bein' underwater." Her breaths return to normal. She pushes on his chest and he realizes she wants down.

John places her down and she's running away from him. She reaches the shore and runs for the towels, scrubbing herself vigorously.

He rushes over to her to apologize profusely, but then his breath is caught in his throat. Her hair is clinging to her neck and shoulders, water is running in rivulets down her skin, and she has never looked more beautiful or more fragile.

He places his hand on her shoulder and brushes some hair from her face. "Sorry, Rose. Shouldn't have done that. Bit thick, me."

She laughed harshly. "It's my fault, not yours, John."

"How can you say that?" he asked, brows furrowing.

She doesn't answer just crushes herself against his chest. Her arms come around to his waist and the towel falls down around the ground. Without thinking, his hands stroke her hair.

"I thought I could do it," she sobbed against him, "I...can't."

"Can't do what, Rose?" he asked, confused. "Be in the water? That's fine."

"No," she said harshly. "Be clean."

"You are clean!" he insisted. "The lake's not dirty."

She pushed back from him, letting out a frustrated noise. She crashed her lips onto his, bruising and demanding from him.

His body responds back immediately, reveling in the taste of salt and vanilla and _Rose_. His lips curl around hers welcomingly, and he rests his hands on her waist.

When her forehead rests against his, he frowns. "You're runnin' a fever," he says, placing his hand against her head.

"No," she insists, "Just the sun."

Then his eyes travel further down, and they widen at the sight in front of him. Bruises in the form of fingerprints dot Rose's collarbone, upper arms, and chest.

"Rose?" he questions.

"He loves me," she insists to him. "He does. Just gets carried away."

Suddenly a twisting sensation goes through his heart and clenches his stomach. He feels nauseated. "Who?" he asked, although he has a feeling he knows already.

"My boyfriend," she whispers.

He grabs her arm gently, turning it over to inspect for more bruises and finding track marks decorating her delicate, pale skin.

Rose jerks away from his grasp. "S'nothin'," she says.

"Does he do that to you?" he asked, voice rising, "Or d'you?"

She whimpers.

"No reason to be scared," he tells her. "Just tell me."

"He forced it into me, but now I need it," she murmurs and backs away from him.

"Rose-" he starts, but she interrupts him.

"Don't start!" she yelled. "I'm sorry I did this to you! I'm sorry I can't give you everything! I can't even be clean for a day! I tried, but I feel the need of it poundin' through my veins." Angry tears poured down her face and she ran from the lake.

He knew he should hate her, for what she had done, for what she was doing. But it was too late for that, he was already in love with Rose Tyler. She had forced her way into his heart, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

"_And can you kneel before the king, _

_And say I'm clean, I'm clean?"_

She was sitting on a park swing. Her hands were running up and down the chains, but her feet weren't moving off the ground.

John sat in the swing next to her. "You didn't have to leave like that."

"Didn't I?" she asked, looking at him. Her eyes were unfocused, and it was clear her boyfriend had supplied her with something else.

"Rose," he said gently, gathering her hands in his lap. "You can't stay with him. You _can't._"

"I don't have any choice," she said brokenly. "I have no where else to go. He'd stop me."

"Stay with me," he offered.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head violently. "I'm not puttin' you in danger."

"You're not puttin' me in danger, Rose. I'm a grown man, an' I can take care of meself."

She shook her head at him and ran.

"_But tell me now, where was my fault_

_In loving you, with my whole heart?_

_Oh, tell me now, where was my fault_

_In loving you, with my whole heart?"_

He didn't see her again for two weeks. That wasn't for lack of trying, Rose just didn't want to be found. John even tried calling her, only to be greeted with her voicemail. He was about to call the police, worried something might have happened when she walked into the pub they had met each other.

"Rose!" he called, waving her towards his side.

She looked nervous and slowly made her way towards him. "Hello," she said quietly.

"Have I done somethin'?" he asked her. "Haven't seen you for a while."

"Just been busy," she replied, fidgeting with the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt.

"Rose," he said quietly. "I-"

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by a new patron slamming the door against the wall. The owner, Donna, was about to shout something at him when the patron in question stomped over to them. From the way Rose yelped, he figured this was her boyfriend in question. Without thinking, John pulled her gently by the wrist closer to him.

"What d'you think you're doin', whore?" her boyfriend asked. "I asked you to come to the pub to pick me up a pint, not to chat with the local elderly."

John's blood boiled. How dare he talk to Rose this way. "That's no way to talk to your girlfriend," he said cool-ly.

"Since when is it any of your business how I talk to my girl?" he sneered. "I didn't ask for input."

"I'm givin' it anyways," he said angrily.

"Rose, come here," her boyfriend demanded.

"Jimmy, please," Rose pleaded. "Don't do this here."

"Shoulda thought about that before you took your sweet arse time, shouldn't ya?" Jimmy said menacingly, holding his arm out to hers. "I won't ask again."

"She won't-" John started to say, but Rose silenced him with her eyes.

She shook her head at him fearfully, her lips drawn together in a tight line. She tugged gently on his hold of her, and John didn't want to let her go back to that prat for the life of him, but he knew it would only be worse if he didn't.

John sighed and released her wrist. She rushed to Jimmy's side.

"Let's just go, please," she whispered.

"Fine," he spat. "But don't think this isn't over."

"_A white blank page, and a swelling rage, rage._

_You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink._

_You desired my attentions but denied my affections, my affections."_

"There's just not a thing for it, Jack," John sighed later that night. "I had her with me, we kissed, I love her, but she still went back to that stupid ape."

"You can't force her to do what she doesn't want to do," he sighed. "She's her own person."

"I know that," he said. "But I can't help but fear for her every single night, Jack. I _love _her."

Jack shook his head. "Have you told her that?"

"How can I have? Every time I wanna tell her anything, she leaves."

"Have you even asked her what happens? Or did you just try to make her leave?" Jack asked. "I'm not denying he's a real asshole for abusing her, John. But you can't go about her relationship with him this way. _Talk _to her about it. She obviously believes she would hurt him by leaving, and even though he hurts her, she is a compassionate person, from what you've told me. You're only causing her stress, John."

"What do I do, then?" John asked.

"Like I said, talk to her. Really talk to her."

John sighed. He nodded, and waved goodbye to Jack and Donna. "See you guys later."

….

He couldn't sleep later, so he dialed Rose's number. She answered on the third ring.

"John?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, listen, Rose. I was wonderin' if you wanted to have a coffee tomorrow afternoon?" he asked.

She was silent for a good minute.

"I promise I just wanna talk," he assured her. "No funny business."

She laughed at that. "Coffee, yeah. Sounds good."

"See you tomorrow, then," he said.

"Yeah. Night, John."

"Night."

…

"_So tell me now, where was my fault,_

_In loving you with my whole heart?_

_Oh, tell me now, where was my fault,_

_In loving you with my whole heart?" _

He had started to get a bit antsy when Rose hadn't shown up to the coffee house. Then, he thought back and remembered he probably wasn't specific enough for her to know when to meet up.

He grabbed the mobile from his jacket and quickly dialed her number, tapping his foot impatiently with the rings. No answer.

He drummed his fingers on the table and fiddled with the phone. Maybe Jimmy had gotten wind of Rose meeting up with him? Maybe she had gotten used last night?

His blood boiled in his veins as he thought of that useless piece of skin she called a boyfriend. His grip tightened on his mobile, and he snapped the cover open with enough force he was surprised it didn't snap clean off.

He dialed again. There was no answer once more. He growled and threw the phone into his jacket pocket before setting off towards the direction Rose left from the pub.

…..

That was when he heard the sirens.

He didn't think, John just took off at a dead run for the sound. His heart and mind raced with the fear and negativity of situations that all involved an injured or dead Rose.

When he finally met the ambulance and police cars parked outside a dingy flat, he had to force himself to remain calm.

"What happened here?" he asked tersely.

The police officer that was pacing the crime scene dillegently, paused and looked at him. "I'm really not at liberty to discuss that, sir."

"Please," he said brokenly. "I just need to make sure-that it's not…"

The officer searched his face quickly. "It was a young woman, aged nineteen, badly beaten. That's all I can tell you."

"And where did the git go, then?" John asked, temper flaring.

"I couldn't tell you that, if I did know, sir. You know that."

His fists clenched. That meant Jimmy had probably run out, then. "Where did they take her?"

"Royal Hope," the officer answered. "Now step away from the crime scene, sir."

He glanced at the officer once more before he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the nearby hospital.

"_Lead me to the truth, and I will follow you with my whole life._

_Oh, lead me to the truth, and I will follow you with my whole life."_

He barked out her name to the poor nurse stationed at the E.R. and was annoyingly denied contact unless he could prove some sort of relation to her.

"Husband," he barked out, thinking of the first thing that could pop into his mind. "Now, let me see her."

"But-" she protested.

"I will find her myself," he promised.

"Room 2130, but she's unconscious and the police are about to arrive for the investigation, Mr. Tyler, so I would suggest you wait here until we hear word-"

"Not a chance," he cut her off, already pushing through the doors and through the halls.

When he got to the room, his breathing stopped. Rose was connected to so many machines, and she was bruised from head to toe it seemed from the skin exposed. She looked even more fragile than the night he first met her.

It was at that moment security burst through the door. "You're supposed to show proper id before you even get through these doors!" the man he presumed was the boss exclaimed. "Why Lynda let you through, I'll never know, but-"

"John," Rose murmured, her eyes fluttering open.

"Ma'am," the man started. "D'you know this man? He's claiming to be your husband, but he didn't show proper id."

"Yes," she cut them off, with a wave of her hand. "He's fine. Was probably just worried about me, poor thing."

The security looked warily between the two of them before muttering, "Bloody lovebirds. Let's clear out, everyone."

"Why'd you tell them you were my husband?" she asked confusedly. "And how did you know where I was?"

"Because you never showed up for coffee or answered your mobile," he answered. "Heard sirens and followed them, and the officer informed me someone with your description had been taken here."

"Seems I can't get rid of you, can I?" she teased, her tongue in between her teeth.

"Rose," he said seriously. "Where did Jimmy go?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I honestly don't want to know. I've thought for so long that he loved me, and maybe he does, but I don't want that kind of love."

"What kind of love do you want?" he asked her.

"Yours," she answered simply. "Some day. Not now, but you bein' here is enough."

She reached for his hand and he clasped hers firmly.


End file.
